


The Best Kept Secrets

by danpuff



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Cheating, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Infidelity, M/M, Mpreg, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 115,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22107487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danpuff/pseuds/danpuff
Summary: It was no secret that Ginny Potter favored her daughter over her sons. Only Albus knew this was because Lily was Ginny’s only child.
Relationships: Albus Severus Potter/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s), Teddy Lupin/James Sirius Potter, Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley
Comments: 85
Kudos: 424





	1. The Man Who Lies to the World

It was no secret that Ginny Potter favored her daughter over her sons. No one faulted her. Not her best friend Luna, who often commented on how alike the pair were, both in looks and temperament. Not Molly, the doting grandmother, who knew what a gift it was for a woman to have a daughter. Certainly not Albus Severus, who knew that the truth of the matter was that Lily was Ginny’s only child.

It was a secret Albus shared with five others, though none knew of his discovery. Albus rather liked it that way. Albus had a fondness for secrets and the keeping of them. He collected secrets. This one just so happened to be his favorite. 

It was this secret Albus contemplated as he twirled a quill between his fingers. A half filled parchment lay on the table before him, ending in the middle of a sentence. Mabel Longbottom, his girlfriend, confided to him a nugget of information he already possessed. 

_My mother was in healer training for a while. I’m not sure why she ever stopped._

Albus knew why, and he had never been so tempted to explain. Hannah Longbottom had been landlady of the Leaky Cauldron for many years now, but for a time she’d very seriously studied in the healing arts. From hidden letters, Albus knew it was a favor asked by his parents that derailed Hannah’s ambitions. A secret they entrusted to no others, and may never have even shared with the Longbottoms had medical care not been necessary. 

No man had ever been pregnant before Harry Potter, not that anyone knew it. Oscar Odell had that honor in the history books. Odell was the first full-term pregnancy using the official Masculo Praegnatio Potion recipe. Harry had been the unfortunate first trial, though purely accidental. One headache, a potion mix up, and a good buggering later had the Boy Who Lived in quite the pickle. Determined though they were to pass the child off as Ginny’s, they would need close healer supervision, particularly in a condition such as the Wizarding world had never seen before. Their only hope was in the wife of a dear friend who happened to be nearing the completion of her medical studies. 

Hannah’s involvement with Harry’s first pregnancy was too close, required too much secrecy. When her program became suspicious of her questions and her notes, Hannah dropped the program rather than risk the Potters’ secret. Albus was unsure if Hannah resented them - she had been perfectly friendly to his family his whole life. 

What would Mabel think, Albus mused. What would anyone think? 

Humming to himself, Albus dropped the quill to the page and scratched out the remainder of his sentence, secret still snugly bottled up inside. It was safe there. Albus felt secure in it. His very own secret within a secret. 

A pop of Apparition followed by muttered voices outside the door pulled Albus from his reverie. Hastily he stuffed the quill and ink back into a drawer and the parchment into the front pocket of his bathrobe. Mabel would forgive creases and tears. She forgave most people most things. His father, however, would take some convincing. The children were supposed to stay out of Harry’s office, especially unsupervised. Unfortunately Harry’s desk was Albus’s favorite place to write. The sixteen year old ducked behind the desk and, when judged safe, darted across the room to the door. His father wasn’t near the office yet, but he may be soon, and Albus did not want to be caught there. 

The office spilled out into a small hallway off of the living room. It was in that living room Harry Potter stood with one Severus Snape. Albus hesitated in the crack of the door. Severus very rarely visited Godric’s Hollow. Albus could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen his other father in this house. They had never been lengthy visits. More often than not the Potters visited Severus’s home in Falmouth. 

Dropping to his knees, Albus darted to the bathroom across the hall as the men muttered to one another. 

“Unhand me, Potter,” Severus hissed, shaking Harry off of his arm.

“Stop being stubborn, Severus. You need help.”

“I can help myself, you infernal child.”

“I am not a child, you dunce. I’m forty one now.”

“And I am nearly sixty-one, Potter. I have learned by now to care for myself.”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to let someone take care of you, for a change.”

Albus was intrigued. He meant to prance out of the bathroom and up to his bedroom as if he’d never been near Harry’s office. Maybe he’d stop for a chat with both fathers before retiring with a dramatic yawn. Now Albus hung in the dark doorway, sharp eyes noting the limp with which Severus moved. Harry turned and Albus stepped further into the shadows, out of view, holding his breath. After a few moments, listening to nothing but the pounding of his own heart, Albus peeked around the door frame. 

At some point during that silence, Harry and Severus had begun kissing. Albus gaped at them from his hiding spot. They had reached the start of the hallway, destination unknown. Harry’s back was pressed into the wall, the other’s tall body flush against him. Hands tangled in hair, in robes; mouths biting and licking hungrily. Albus had never seen the like. Harry and Ginny always shared chaste, sweet kisses with gentle affection. This was angry. This was agony. 

Unable to bear the sight, Albus stepped back into the shadows once more. The image was burned into his eyes. Groping, clawing, violent lust. 

Realistically, Albus always knew Harry and Severus had once been intimate. How else would he and James exist but not for that? Only Albus had assumed their romance had ended years ago. The teen pressed his palms into his eyes to drive away the sight of them. Harry and Ginny had been separated during both conceptions, hadn’t they? Albus thought of fond smiles and clasped hands shared between the married Potters. They loved each other, didn’t they? Harry would never hurt his wife in that way, would he? 

A needy whimper sounded from nearby. Albus hesitated before looking, wondering if the sound was pleasure or pain. Severus’s mouth had latched to Harry’s throat, Harry’s hands clutching at his back, one leg hooked around his lover’s. Pale, slender fingers pressed to the front of Harry’s trousers. Eager hips pressed forward into the touch. Harry’s head banged back into the wall and his palms pushed gently at Severus’s chest. 

“Merlin, Sev’rus…we can’t,” Harry reluctantly gasped.

Severus stiffened and shoved away. His bad leg buckled beneath him. Harry reached out to aid him, but Severus caught himself on the wall and slapped away Harry’s hand. “Of course not,” Severus snapped. “It isn’t as though you have ever been unfaithful to Ms. Weasley.”

“Mrs. Potter,” Harry corrected coldly. He sighed, tension melting from his shoulders as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been five years, Severus. Doesn’t make it okay since we…before.”

“Take me home, Potter,” Severus demanded.

“It’s Harry.”

“You’re only Harry when I’m balls deep in your arse, _boy_ ,” Severus hissed, grasping unruly black hair and forcing Harry’s head back. Dark eyes flicked down to Harry’s mouth. Albus couldn’t see his dad’s face, but he did spot the hand rising to cup Severus’s elbow. “Take me home.”

Harry broke himself free and walked towards the living room. “It’s not safe. You should stay here, in the guest room.”

“You apprehended my attackers, Potter. Unless you plan on joining me, I see no reason to remain.” Severus stalked Harry like a predator towards the couch. Harry was shaking his head, denials too quiet and strained for Albus to make out the words. He gleaned the meaning through tone and expression. “If you were so concerned about your wife, you would leave me be.”

Harry stared at Severus for a long moment, a spasm in his tight jaw. “You know I can’t.”

“Because you _love_ me?” Severus spat.

“Yes.” Albus couldn’t hear the word, it was so quiet, but he was excellent at reading lips. His heart clenched at the shine in Harry’s eyes, wondering if they were tears, or if it was a trick of the light. 

Severus snorted cruelly. “Thank you for your aid, Auror Potter.”

Albus pressed his back against the door, not daring to watch as Severus stumbled across the living room, fumbling with the objects on the mantle. Only when he heard the hiss of the Floo did he count to ten and peer out. Harry still stood there, back to Albus, one arm wrapped around his middle, the other rubbing at his eyes. Albus swallowed around the lump in his throat. Was his dad crying? Harry took a shuddering breath, muttering to himself, “Idiot.” 

When Harry began to turn, Albus quickly hid himself again, hoping his dad didn’t need to relieve himself. Thankfully it was into his office that the man disappeared. When the door clicked shut, Albus quietly crept up to his bedroom with a heavy heart.

* * *

If Albus was distant for the rest of Christmas holiday, no one commented on it. Holing up in his room with his books was not an unusual habit. Staring off into space, lost in thought, was a common expression for his narrow face. James teased him for being heartsick, apart from Mabel for so long. James mimed a fairly disgusting display of kissing that Albus found to be unfair. He and Mabel made a much classier sight than that in the corridors, if he did say so himself. Lily and Ginny gagged exaggeratively while Harry laughed into his pumpkin juice. 

Albus afforded James a very indignant glare, and otherwise kept his gaze away from anyone. Especially Harry. 

Back at Hogwarts, life resumed some shade of normalcy. He and Scorpius stayed up late into the night, discussing conspiracy theories in their dormitory. By day Albus walked Mabel to class and kissed her in corners. If he was more distracted than usual, Mabel broached the subject with nothing but selfless concern. Her Hufflepuff kindness, which first attracted Albus, now left him with gnawing guilt. He felt undeserving of her patience. He wasn’t sure why. Albus wasn’t the one to betray the people who trusted him. 

Never in his life had Albus been so tempted to share his secret. Never before had it felt so much like a burden. His oldest, dearest friend had become poison in his veins. 

Wide-eyed Scorpius would share rumors of Headmistress McGonagall being impersonated by a Polyjuiced goblin. Albus would bite his tongue until it bled, wanting to scream the truth at him. “ _My father is cheating on my beautiful mother with an ugly, acerbic bastard who just so happens to be my other father. Funny enough, my mother is not really my mother. My dad gave birth to me and James. We are the products of his infidelity._ He swallowed the words and they tasted like bile.

Scorpius might consider whether Harry had ingested the potion voluntarily, or if Severus had spiked his pumpkin juice with it. Albus wondered that himself. The words were right there, ready to tumble from his quivering lips. He could be free of this. He wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts anymore. Scorpius would be his sounding board. The words bounded around his skull, banging and begging to be set free. 

Sitting beneath a tree, gazing into Mabel’s clear blue eyes, he felt the words pulling forth as to a magnet. Her hands were soft in his, soothing his uneasy soul. The way her honey blond hair gleamed in the sunlight was entrancing. Everything about her called to him, safety and security for all of his troubles. The words sat heavy on his tongue. _”Is it wrong, do you think, that I wish they could be together? I love my mother, but Severus is my real parent. He and my dad are still in love. Is it bad that I want Dad to leave Mum for Severus? That I want to be a family with them instead? Or to at least know what it’s like?”_

Oh how he yearned to confide in her. Even still the words hit a barrier that not even sweet Mabel could break through. 

Whatever Albus felt for his fathers, he couldn’t reveal what had been hidden for so long. However tempting, he had sealed the truth inside of himself, and he didn’t know how to let go.

* * *

In June, James graduated. An entire row was reserved for the Weasley-Potter clan of which Severus Snape happened to be part. Even after all these years, the Potters’ friendship with their old professor, and their naming him godfather to their children, raised brows. Nearby families watched and whispered as he joined them. He sat in the middle of the row, only Albus separating him from Harry. Albus barely paid mind to the ceremony, too aware of the tension between his fathers. Or was that only his imagination? Lily sat between Harry and Ginny. Fitting, Albus mused, how they each sat between both of their parents. 

“James Sirius Potter,” Headmistress McGonagall called. 

Severus didn’t smile. He didn’t hoop and holler as the Weasleys did. He clapped politely as he watched James swagger across the stage, offering a theatrical bow to the headmistress as she placed his diploma in his open hand. Only Albus saw the pride shining in those dark eyes.

The same dark eyes that sparkled mischievously in James’s face as he winked at the crowd.

* * *

For a week the family celebrated James’s achievements. James wouldn’t let them do otherwise. He was proud as could be of his NEWT scores, of all of the Quidditch offers being sent by owl, of making McGonagall blush when he kissed her cheek. He would brag to anyone who would stand still long enough about his successful school years and the promise of a bright future ahead. 

All the while some dark corner of Albus’s brain plotted. 

By the time the first Sunday of summer holidays rolled around, the Potter household was marginally calmer. Albus sat on the settee, eyes glued to Mabel’s most recent letter, taking none of it in. James and Harry conversed nearby about the pros and cons of each Quidditch team courting James. Albus nervously shifted his legs, green eyes flicking up to the clock. It was nearly time. 

“Look at me, boys!” Lily exclaimed, bursting into the living room. Fourteen years old, she still playfully twirled like a child to show off the flowing of her new periwinkle dress. Her private enjoyment of frivolity was hidden behind false humor, as evidenced by her laughter and exasperated shrug.

“Mum, you never get _me_ new dresses!” James complained.

Ginny rolled her eyes from behind Lily, extending a choice of two ribbons to her daughter. “I’ll buy you the gown of your dreams when you settle on a team.”

James grinned. “Promise?”

“Does that mean you like it, Jamesy?” Lily giggled, twirling the opposite direction. 

“Come now, we don’t want to be late,” Harry said, checking his watch. “You know how Severus is.”

“Mean?” Lily suggested.

“Killjoy?” James added.

“Bitter?” Ginny muttered.

“Has better things to do than wait around for us?” Albus put in, a tad more harshly than intended. Only Ginny gave him a confused look for this, as James and Lily were still trading adjectives of a negative nature.

“Particular, was what I had in mind,” Harry interjected, amused. “Come along, line up.”

One by one the Potters Flooed directly into Snape’s living room. It was a cramped space, with more furniture than a bachelor warranted. Albus figured it was their fault. More furniture was needed to accommodate his frequent guests. The armchair was Severus’s, the settee for the couple, the puffy couch for the children. Numerous tables for drinks and snacks and books and games. There was even a small bookshelf squeezed between a table and the couch, which Albus appreciated. Over the years it came to be filled with more of Albus’s favorite genres, with a few Quidditch titles that could only have been thrown in for James’s benefit. 

Surprisingly, the room was empty when Albus entered, an open book face down on the arm of the chair. He frowned, stepping aside to avoid being trampled by James. Lily shrieked from a nearby room. Albus and James glanced at each other then rushed towards the sound of her voice. 

In the kitchen, Lily hovered where Severus stood at the sink. “Oh, Uncle Sev’rus, what happened?”

“Oh, Merlin,” James whispered. “Dad! Mum! Come quick!”

Severus was shirtless, letting cool water from the faucet ease nasty burns on his arms. Two sets of pounding footsteps later and suddenly the tiny kitchen was packed with six people. Albus shuffled closer to allow his parents entrance, but also to steal a closer look at the injuries.

“My apologies,” Severus said calmly. “I should have owled that I would be unavailable this morning, but I rather lost track of the time.”

“Severus, what did you do?” Harry demanded, rushing to his side. “Lily, move along. Go with your mother.”

“Will Uncle Sev’rus be okay?” Lily asked shakily as she backed away.

“Never fear, child,” Severus assured her through a wince. Albus hoped Lily didn’t see the blood dripping down the man’s other side. “I have endured much worse.”

“Come, Lily, James, Albus,” Ginny directed, stepping aside to gesture the children ahead of her. James pushed Lily ahead of him, glancing back to the scene with concern. Ginny impatiently beckoned Albus forward.

“Go on, Mum. I’ll be more help than Dad,” Albus said, rolling up his sleeves. Harry had his hand on Severus’s lower back, the other cupping his wounded hand, leaning in close to whisper soothingly. Ginny’s eyes flashed, but she walked away without a word.

“I don’t need you, Potter,” Severus snarled, jerking his wounded arm away. The hand on his back stroked up and down comfortingly. 

“Clearly you need a chaperon,” Harry snapped. “You’re content to bleed out in the sink, are you?”

Their nearness was unbearable to Albus, that charged air between them. Albus could feel it from where he stood. They had eyes only for one another. Was Harry touching Severus more than usual, taking advantage of the situation? Was that energy as much sexual as it was angry? 

“One of Professor Longbottom’s experiments, then, was it?” Albus finally asked, breaking the spell between them. Harry instantly shifted away from Severus, who stiffened instead. Had they forgotten he was there, or had they never noticed in the first place?

“Indeed,” Severus agreed. “He sent me samples of his new mandrake-mugwort abomination. I may tell him to burn the entire crop.”

Albus nodded. “I’ll grab some supplies.” As he headed to the potions storeroom, he saw Harry step closer, reaching out again. His addled mind struggled to differentiate between salves he normally grabbed instinctively. Nerves caused him to fumble with the jars, so that he held them close to his chest as he reentered the kitchen. 

“I have tended myself before, you impudent child.”

“You shouldn’t have to. Ah, there he is.” Harry was standing at Severus’s other side, examining the nasty cut that stretched from underarm to elbow. “I can handle this, Al.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Albus mocked, handing Harry one of the jars and keeping the other to himself. “Pat that over the cut. _Don’t_ rub it.” Severus turned his head away from Harry as he smirked. The sight of it eased something in Albus, pleasure warming his chest. Severus was not an easy man to amuse. 

Quietly they worked. Harry patted the yellow balm into the jagged cut. Albus carefully massaged a gray salve into the burns on his left arm. Severus stared resolutely out of the window, entire body tense. Albus curiously eyed the old scars on his chest and his back when he dared. They must have come from his spying days. The two punctures in his neck were from Nagini, he knew, but what could have caused that mass of scar tissue between his shoulder blades? The twin lines down his chest could be from any number of poisonous, thorny plants, likely from Neville’s stock. 

The area Albus had most access to was the Dark Mark on his left forearm. The burn covered the faded snake. _”Your Uncle Severus was a Slytherin, and he is probably the bravest man I have ever known,”_ he recalled his dad saying. The tattoo was gray and pitiful now, but still a symbol of great fear from a dark time. It was the mark of Severus’s greatest shame. Albus could tell it bothered the man that he was so near it. His jaw clenched whenever Albus’s fingers brushed over the mark.

_”I’m proud you’re my father,”_ Albus wanted to assure him. _”I always have been.”_ Harry’s words had been a comfort, but when Albus was sorted into Slytherin it was the deeper meaning he took to heart. His other father was a hero, too. The Slytherin side of his nature was honestly come by, and nothing to fear. He was proud as he wrote to his parents of his sorting, more enthused in his letter to “Uncle Severus” than anyone. Albus liked to think Severus was the most proud of him. He liked to think it meant something to the man, that one of his sons followed in his footsteps. 

“Al,” Harry said gently. “It’s okay, I can finish from here.”

Albus’s lips trembled, throat tight, struggling to keep his emotions at bay. It was not the injuries that bothered him so, but how could he explain the torrent of longing and frustration, and the weight of his silence affecting him? Severus carefully tugged his arm free. “Thank you, Albus. That will be all.”

Harry took over treating the burns. Albus left the kitchen in a daze. Ginny, James, and Lily were laughing in the living room. Albus passed them by, climbing the stairs to the attic. Attics had always been his favorite room in any house, but especially here. It was where he first learned the truth of his parentage, in letters and photos hidden at the bottom of a locked trunk. 

As had been his intention all along, he dug for his favorite photo and pocketed it. He then sat on the trunk until his mother called for him to leave. Those thirty minutes passed by in the blink of an eye. Likely they only stayed long enough for Harry to treat the wounds. Their visits were usually much longer than this. Albus wondered if the wizards made the most of their minimal time, if they dared touch and kiss with the others so close. Would it bother them that their time was so short, or glad to part from such temptation?

* * *

Lily and James were already gone by the time Albus walked downstairs. Severus was fully clothed now, resting in his armchair with a warm cup of tea. Harry and Ginny stood by the fireplace, jar of Floo powder in hand.

“Actually, I’d like to stay a few minutes, if that’s alright?” he asked, looking to Severus. The man was wounded, but if Albus didn’t do this now, he wasn’t sure he ever would. 

Severus held his gaze for a moment, then nodded to Harry and Ginny. Albus didn’t look at his parents as they silently Flooed home. Only when they were gone did Albus pull the picture from his pocket. 

“I’d like to keep this, if you don’t mind,” Albus said, holding it out.

Brows furrowed, Severus took the picture. His fingers tightened around it, looking sharply up at him. “How,” he demanded through clenched teeth, “did you lay your grubby hands on this?”

Albus shrugged and shuffled on his feet. “Uncle George showed me how to pick locks ages ago. I found that when I was nine, about.”

Severus’s face was paler than usual as he stared down at the picture, left eye twitching. Right thumb smoothed carefully across the image. Albus knew the scene by heart. Harry was seated at the end of the couch, Severus in the armchair he sat in now. Severus in the photo leaned towards Harry to rest his hand on the rounded belly. Harry in the photo smiled, covering that hand with his own. The pair shared a soft, sad look.

“He was…pregnant…with me in this one, wasn’t he?” Albus asked. He had to cough out the word ‘pregnant’, so unnatural on his tongue. Severus glanced up at him, but didn’t respond. “My mum didn’t take that, did she?” A jerk of the man’s shoulder could have been a shrug or pain. “I don’t imagine she was thrilled by any of this.”

“Hannah Longbottom,” Severus explained. “She was…checking on him. And you.”

“Oh. I should have guessed,” Albus said. “I saw the letters, too. I knew she was involved.”

“You’re a sneaky brat, like your father,” Severus commented, more exhausted than truly irritated. “No regard for others’ privacy.”

Albus had no response to that. He had always been a curious boy, on the hunt for truth to uncover. Albus was always snooping, but he never told any of the secrets he found. They were his for safekeeping. He never told anyone of James’s preference for men, or Lily’s crush on Cian Finnegan, not Aunt Audrey’s affair, or cousin Roxanne’s shoplifting. Even this revelation ate at him, and it was with someone who shared the knowledge. Albus didn’t know how to explain any of this, so instead he said, “Can I keep it, then? Please?”

“No,” Severus whispered. “Who else knows?”

“No one,” Albus replied, shoulders slumping. “I’d never tell. Not ever.” He swallowed. “But I saw you kissing Dad. At Christmas. You should be more careful.”

Severus frowned. “Clearly.” He rested the photo face down on his knee. “My possessions are not yours to take as you wish, but you may…examine these at your leisure. If you keep them to yourself.”

“I have this long, haven’t I?” Albus snapped, offense at last breaking through his despondency. 

Severus nodded. “You should go home now, Albus, before your mother frets.”

Frustrated, Albus marched to the fireplace. The Floo jar was still open on the mantle. Trust his father to never put the lid back on. A pinch of powder between his fingers and he replaced the top with his free hand. Before he could leave, Severus spoke behind him.

“You should know what these visits have meant, over the years,” the man stated gruffly, uncertainly. Tears stung Albus’s eyes. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I know.”


	2. When Its Back Was Turned

James Sirius was eighteen years old and a Hogwarts graduate. He felt on top of the world as never before, or at least more so than usual. Life had been kind to James, exceedingly kind. He was tall, athletic, and handsome, never wanting for friends or dates. His talent on a broom rivaled that of both parents, which accounted for the numerous offers from various professional teams seeking him out. The wealth of his family meant he would never struggle to get by, which also meant he could afford to be generous with others. 

What could a wizard want, when he had it all? Popularity, talent, and money? Why, he wanted what he couldn’t have, of course. Or at least what he shouldn’t have. 

Mother and sister were out visiting Aunt Angelina and cousins Fred and Roxanne. Father and brother were out grocery shopping. The house was empty, save for James, and the family owl. What better time to invite over a guest? A guest whose company he wished to indulge in to the fullest.

“I wonder why the Harpies didn’t give me a shot,” James joked. “Aren’t I pretty enough?”

Teddy laughed from across the table, shuffling the pile of letters between them. “You’re very pretty, Jame.”

James’s heart fluttered at the nickname only Teddy used. The upward curve of those soft pink lips always set butterflies racing in his belly. Teddy was too aware of his charm, flushing pink and dropping his brown eyes. When they met James’s again, they were the pink-orange of sunset. James laughed softly and glanced away, horrified to feel his own face heating.

“Well,” Teddy continued, clearing his throat. “You know I’ve always been a fan of the Falcons.”

“Yeah,” James agreed, which was precisely why they were in his top three. “The Tornadoes have always done very well.”

Teddy had played Chaser, as James did, while in school. He’d had offers himself, though he had never cared for the game professionally. It disappointed his grandmother and godparents. Not only his refusal to play professionally, but his lack of ambitions at all. To them, all of Teddy’s talents were wasted by his aimlessness. He had no passion for any career, instead moving from one job to the next, wherever his wandering heart took him. James didn’t mind. He found it endearing, really. 

James found much of Teddy to be endearing. 

“Here,” James said, boldly rising from his chair and walking around to Teddy’s side of the table. He sank smoothly into the chair beside the older wizard, leaning in close and resting his hand near Teddy’s to point out one of the offers. Teddy didn’t move his hand away. “What do you think of the Kestrels? Dad really thinks I should go with them.”

His heart drummed enthusiastically in his chest when Teddy turned his face towards his. Uncontrolled, his previously brown hair sprung into pale blond curls. “I hate to sound cheesy, but I really think you should just follow your heart.”

“You may be right,” James agreed. It so happened that his heart led him forward, pressing his lips confidently against Teddy’s. His mouth was every bit as soft and sweet as it looked. The blond curls were silky between his fingers, hugging each digit lovingly. Teddy’s hand cupping his jaw drove every thought right out of his mind. He wasn’t sure at what point he slipped into Teddy’s lap, but he was very glad to find himself there.

* * *

Shopping done, Harry dropped Albus off at home before turning and driving to Severus’s cottage. Apparation or Floo would have been faster, but driving gave him time to think. The owl this morning bore only a short note requesting his presence this afternoon. No explanation, not even a please. Harry should have declined.

Instead he drove eagerly, mind buzzing with possibilities. By the time he pulled into Severus’s driveway, all of that excitement had given way to dread. There was only one reason Severus would want Harry alone. He thought the whole drive about the incident after Christmas, the kiss that still left him burning with desire. It had been the right thing to do, to send Severus away, but he still felt abiding regret for doing so. He loathed himself for surrendering to the kiss, even if it was only a kiss; he loathed himself for not surrendering more of himself, marriage be damned. 

Severus was right. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Setting the car into park, he stared at the too familiar door and slumped back into his seat. He had helped choose this town and this house for Severus, helped him move into it. This was where their story truly began.

After all Severus had done for the war effort, it was the least anyone could do to make sure he was set up well in the aftermath. Harry was a frequent visitor to St. Mungo’s during his recovery. To Severus’s irritation, Harry insisted on helping him find a new home, a new job, and making sure he attended all of his follow-up appointments. The Falmouth cottage suited Severus’s needs nicely, with a garden for ingredients and a spacious basement workroom for brewing. His new career as a potioneer contracted to St. Mungo’s provided ample freedom for experimentation and prestige by association. 

Harry wasn’t sure when his helpfulness became selfish, when a sense of obligation bloomed into friendship. At some point the biting remarks became friendly jibes. At some point tension melted into companionship. They still fought until Harry stormed out in a fury, but he always returned and Severus always let him.

The first year after the war was difficult for all of them. Harry drank more than he should until Ginny badgered him into therapy. She saw a therapist herself. To no one’s surprise he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. He and Ginny broke up and got back together no less than five times in a three year period, though the public never caught wind of it. The press painted their portrait with the colors of glory, never suspecting the darker shades of fear and resentment. Only when Harry was kicked out of Auror training for anger management problems did anyone become aware of a real issue. What had anyone expected, after all he had been through? After all he had done?

It was that day he realized he and Severus were friends, because the Falmouth cottage was the first place he thought to go. A scowling face greeted him at the door, but didn’t refuse him or his requests for firewhisky. They didn’t speak, only sharing companionable silence and shared grief. At some point, he passed out, and awoke midday on the couch with a hangover potion on the end table. The house was empty at the time. Harry assumed Severus was working and left in embarrassment before the man could come home. 

Things had been simpler back then, Harry mused. Those were the days before he’d fallen irrevocably in love with the stoic man. The time when he could bear to be near his intimidating ex-professor without his heart shattering into millions of pieces. Those were the years spent suffering the worst of nightmares, trying to piece his life together, struggling to move past the horrors of the war. He had been so angry with himself and with the world, so bitter from all of the loss he had suffered so young in life. The weight of the world on his shoulders before he was old enough to understand. Did he miss the instability? The alcoholism? The fights with Ginny? The anger management classes? The hole in his life where purpose had once been? 

Oh, but that was the hardest pill to swallow. He had been the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, for so long. Who was he now that his destiny had been fulfilled?

Ginny had stood by his side through all of it. Through her own nightmares, her own pain, selflessly offering him love and comfort. She stood up to him when he was hellish, was his rock when he was falling apart, and offered rare moments of beauty and joy in his darkness. So when he was twenty, he proposed and, within months, Molly Weasley had planned a romantic ceremony. Ginny was a vision in her simple white gown, white flowers plaited into her fiery red hair. With two little words he was welcomed into the Weasley family officially, and for a night felt more stable and secure than he had in years. 

All that he went through, Severus was there in the background of his life. Nights with just the two of them sharing a drink and barbed words. One bad night on the couch had Severus sending him home with Dreamless Sleep. By the time the wedding rolled around, Harry was visiting Severus several times a week.

Falling in love with Severus had been a trap, a slow game enacted by a cruel fate. Life had been too crazy for him to spare extra thought for the growing civility between them. 

Memories flashed through his mind and he sighed, pressing a palm firmly into his aching head. Harry should leave rather than test his resolve against temptation. It would tear them both to shreds if Harry had to deny Severus once more. What else could he do? He’d put Ginny through enough. She deserved better. He had been faithless too many times to count, if not in deed, then in thought. Difficult as it had been to turn away in December, it had been wrong of him to indulge as he had; kissing Severus back, touching every inch of the man he could reach, basking the feel and taste of him as long as he dared. It wasn’t fair to Ginny. It wasn’t fair to Severus.

It was wrong of him to hope for kisses today, that he might let himself enjoy. It was wrong to envision initiating a kiss himself. He shouldn’t think that way, hope for those things. Shouldn’t risk what might follow if he couldn’t stop himself again.

It was hard. Because all he could think of now was the first time.

He had been twenty three at the time. Problems had arisen between Ginny and himself yet again, and they had separated. For the first time, Wizarding news outlets had caught on, broadcasting their breakup to the world. Everyone had theories about the dissolution of his marriage. A resurgence of Harry’s anger? Yes, but not to the extreme it had once been. He was a working Auror now, after a successful anger management course. Alcoholism? Another win for the rags. Abuse? Never. They might yell, and he may have punched a wall or two, but he had never laid hands on Ginny like that, nor she to him. Cheating on both ends? No. Not that he knew of, at least.

Not yet.

Ginny had their Godric’s Hollow home to herself, while Harry packed his belongings off to Grimmauld Place. There was peace, now that he and his wife weren’t screaming themselves hoarse, but the house was lonely with only Kreacher for company. More and more Harry found himself in Severus’s cottage, drinking his sorrows away. He was laid out on a rug in front of the fireplace, idly swirling the firewhisky in his glass, tilting his head up for every sip. If the liquid sloshed down his neck, his friend didn’t comment on it. The crackling warmth of the fire settled his nerves, and the drink in his hand chased away every miserable thought. Only when he finished the first glass did he pay mind to the room around him, sitting up to pour a second. To his surprise he found Severus watching him, such intensity in his gaze that set his pulse racing. Irritation set in, half expecting the man to berate him, ready to jump to his own defense. 

It took a few seconds for Severus to realize he’d been caught. An ugly flush stained his sallow face, turning himself away from Harry’s scrutiny. When he glanced back, his face was tense and guarded, but heat lingered beneath the surface, causing Harry’s stomach to knot. Harry licked his lips. “What?”

Infuriatingly, the man only quirked a brow. 

“You’ve been staring at me,” he huffed impatiently, setting his glass aside.

“I’m waiting for you to finish whinging so that I might have some peace,” Severus replied smoothly. Too smoothly.

“I haven’t said a word!” Harry snapped.

“You’re moping.”

“I’m drinking! Bloody hell.”

“You’re agonizing over some foolish bint who can’t be bothered to make her marriage work,” he snarled. “All she desired of you was your fame and fortune. Now that she has that, what need has she of you?”

“ _What_?” Harry asked. At first he was too stunned to be properly angry, though he could feel wrath bubbling beneath the surface. He laughed incredulously, shaking his head. “It’s not like that. Ginny’s not…Ginny doesn’t care about those things. I told you, we’ve been fighting a lot. It’s not anyone’s fault. We…we both have a lot of stuff to work through. But she’s not…she’s not like that.”

“Why not?” the older wizard demanded coldly. “The poor little Weasley chit has never known anything but poverty. The only reason anyone has paid her any mind was her connection to the Boy Who Lived. Before you befriended her moronic brother, she was _nothing_. Now? Now she’s the wife of our _savior_ , Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, with probably more money than she knows what to do with, her face plastered all over the media. All of her wildest fantasies have come to life. Now, as any young gold digger would crave, she is off to find other avenues to expand her fame and wealth. She’s used you for all you’re worth and now you are to be cast aside without thought or care.”

“What the bloody hell has gotten into you?” Harry demanded. “Ginny’s been nothing but good to your ungrateful arse! Now you want to say…she’s not…how could you think that?”

“How could you not, you blind fool?” Severus spat furiously, pushing himself out of his armchair. Harry scrambled to his feet, knocking over his glass in the process. Was the man really going to fight him over his wife? Where had all of this come from? Severus advanced on him. “Will you crawl back to her the moment she deigns to want you again?”

“Why wouldn’t I…I wouldn’t crawl, but…she’s my wife!” Harry exclaimed, words as jumbled as his mind.

“A foolish mistake on your part, I must say.” The taller wizard was too close, sharing his air. Harry backed away until he hit the wall, and Severus met him there.

Harry’s heart picked up, racing erratically. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

Fury flared in Severus, and Harry thought he saw hints of panic join in. “Why you little…”

“Jealous! That’s it. Because you’re stuck here all alone,” Harry spat. The older man snorted, but Harry rambled on, trying to make sense of the anger that had taken possession of his friend. “You may be a heartless bastard, but even you get lonely. Do you miss my mum? Is that it? Does Ginny remind you of her? Or is it just Ginny you want?”

“I am hardly attracted to your wife, Potter,” Severus retorted. “She has the body of a prepubescent boy. I am frankly astonished by the amount of lust she supposedly inspires in her fan base.”

“She does not look like a boy!” Harry fumed. Ginny was beautiful. Her body was healthy and athletic, not a stick figure like one saw in magazines, or the curvaceous figures Ron preferred, with more breasts than one knew what to do with. Her long red hair was every bit as feminine and feisty as she was. It made perfect sense for people to want her. She was one of the prettiest witches Harry knew. “Merlin, what is wrong with you?”

“There is nothing wrong with me,” Severus replied stiffly. “I am merely puzzled by your wish to remain in a marriage that clearly is not working for either of you.”

“You seem awfully ready for me to divorce her,” Harry laughed bitterly. “You do want her, don’t you?”

“No, Potter, I do not want _her_.”

“Then what…”

“Are you truly this dense, Potter? Must I spell it out for you?”

“Please!”

Harry waited on edge, pressed against the wall, watching Severus struggle with his decision. The older wizard was at a loss as how to proceed. Severus ran so hot and cold, one or the other, but the ice was melted and the inferno blazed within. Harry could feel the heat of it, the anger of it, sensing something else lurking alongside it. Severus was so in control so much of the time, but Harry was one of the triggers that dragged all of his repressed rage to the surface. Only Harry wasn’t sure how he had set it off this time. He had only asked a simple question, leading them here. Now Severus looked for all the world wishing he could run away or punch Harry in the face. Possibly both.

“It would not be wise,” Severus finally said, clutching to what of his dignity remained after such a display.

“Don’t play the coward now, Snape,” Harry snapped.

There was one surefire way to push Severus’s buttons. Before Harry was aware of his movement, Severus’s hands shot forward, grasping the front of his jumper, urging Harry up to his toes. “Don’t you dare play this game with me, Potter. I’m no coward, as you should well know.” He licked his lips and glanced away. “You don’t understand what you are requesting. You would surely regret the acquisition of such knowledge, were I so inclined to share.”

“Only one way to find out,” Harry dared. The air between them was fraught with tension Harry wished to dispel. He knew the taste of it too well by now, with every fight between Ginny and himself, between himself and Severus. He thrived on it. He hated that about himself. Nervously he licked his lips and Severus’s gaze dropped to follow his tongue’s movement.

Suddenly the grasp on his jumper loosened, fingers instead digging into his hair and Severus’s mouth was pressed viciously against his own. Immediately he tried to jerk away, but there was nowhere to go. Severus’s grip on him tightened, pressing him harder into the wall, teeth and lips weapons against him. Panic surged within him and, with all of his strength, he managed to shove Severus away and punched him in the face as hard as he could. Severus fell to the floor and Harry ran from the house without looking back. 

For two weeks he didn’t see or hear from Severus Snape. Yet he was with Harry all of the time as he replayed the kiss in his mind over and over again. Not jealous of him over Ginny, but jealous of Ginny over him? It didn’t make sense. 

It didn’t make sense how his mind reeled with possibilities. He was too aware of his mouth, wondering if it would have been better if he had kissed Severus back. No, it was a cruel joke, a spiteful means of getting Harry out of his hair. And yet…there was the fire burning within the other wizard, something more than anger. Lust, his mind supplied, looking back. Anger and desire tangled within. It spoke to the same tangled mess within himself. Rage called to rage, and as to the other…Harry didn’t dare ponder it.

It wasn’t until Ginny first uttered the word “divorce” two weeks later that gave Harry the courage to see his friend again. Nervous energy ate him up, demanding release. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with it as he stormed up to Severus’s front door, letting himself in without knocking. Severus rushed in from the kitchen snarling, vexation turning to wariness when he recognized Harry. Harry thought he might hit him as he marched up to the man.

But Harry didn’t hit him. The arms that reached out instead grabbed Severus, pulling him near, grasping into stringy, greasy hair, pulling him down into a very thorough kiss. Severus’s arms didn’t hesitate to wrap around him, holding him as close as possible. The hours that followed needed no words, only the passion driving them into the bed upstairs. The dark, hateful mass within Harry broke loose that night, purged from his soul by every hungry caress and needy kiss. 

Even now, every inch of his body tingled in response to the memory. He bit his lips, swearing he could feel the ghost of those searing kisses against them. Skin burned to think of skillful hands worshiping his bare flesh. More importantly, the vivid image of Severus _finally_ pressing deep inside of his body. Emerald eyes fluttered shut, head falling back against the seat, butt cheeks clenched against the ache of emptiness contrasting the remembered burn as his body was stretched open for the first time around his lover’s generous cock. The pain never mattered compared to the rewarding sensation of being so full. He sighed quietly at the scene his mind replayed of sweating, writhing bodies and the constant stream of moans and gasps. Embarrassingly he felt his trousers grow tight as he became steadily aroused, eyes flicking open, willing the thoughts to flee when he realized what was happening and where. 

He couldn’t stay. He couldn’t do this. With a shaky hand, he fumbled for the gear shift to reverse. Severus was in the doorway beckoning him inside before he could do so. Had Severus not been so recently injured, Harry might have thrown himself at that tall, imposing figure. _”Take me,”_ he’d whispered that night, pleased by the way Severus trembled beneath his hands. _”Please.”_ Harry turned off the car, already cursing himself as he followed Severus inside.

This was always easier with Ginny and the kids. Harry hadn’t visited without them in the past five years, since he finally put an end to their torrid affair. Five long years since Severus had been inside of him. There was nothing Harry wanted more than to drag him upstairs and ride him into oblivion. _Ginny and the kids_ he reminded himself, bracing himself as the door clicked shut and he was alone with the man he loved. 

“No need to be afraid, Potter. I don’t bite,” Severus said, smoothly lowering himself into his favorite chair. “Not unless you beg me for it.”

Desire burned in his gut, though he forced himself to roll his eyes as naturally as possible, calmly sitting on the couch as far from Severus as he could be. “I’m sure people request it often,” he muttered sarcastically. Teeth nipping at his mouth, sinking into his neck, scraping against his inner thighs. Harry blinked rapidly to banish the images.

Severus smirked slyly. “More than you would care to know.”

Ice shot down his spine, shocking to the fire that had been boiling his blood. “What?” he asked dumbly.

Severus looked at him as though he were being intentionally stupid. “Don’t tell me you were under the assumption that I play celibate when you’re not spreading your legs for me.”

Actually, that was exactly what Harry thought. While Harry felt undeniable attraction to the man, he was not traditionally handsome. Nor was he traditionally charming. In fact, Severus was right unpleasant most of the time, to most people. 

Also, Harry knew that Severus loved him. He might not be the most expressive person in the best of times, but Harry knew it was true. Just as he knew that Severus knew Harry returned that love. It did surprise him that Severus had known other lovers since Harry. While he was with Harry, as well? Not that it mattered. It couldn’t matter. 

“What? When? Who?” Harry babbled unthinkingly. 

“That is hardly any of your concern, Mr. Potter,” Severus said, appearing to relish in Harry’s discomfort. “A few individuals over the years. Most recently I have shared an arrangement with a coworker. Esther Unger.”

“Esther Unger?” he repeated. Looking into this woman would be easy, particularly for the Head Auror. Coworker. That meant St. Mungo’s. A healer, perhaps? Or a fellow potioneer? Did they have sex here, in this house? Harry felt lightheaded. Or maybe at the hospital itself, in dark closets or on worktables. Who was this woman? Probably ugly, Harry thought viciously, and older. A few minutes of thrusting to ease the tension and back to business, clinical rather than passionate. He’d ask his secretary in the morning to do a bit of digging, just to see. “I don’t…why?”

“Don’t look so hurt,” Severus said, still deeply amused. Harry scowled at him. “You’ve been shagging that cow for twenty years. You hardly have the right to oppose my sex life.”

“Don’t talk about Ginny that way,” Harry chided on rote, still caught up by the welling ache within. “She’s my wife.”

“Then perhaps you should have remained in her bed and kept your heart in her capable hands.”

“Is that why I’m here, then?” Harry asked, latching onto anything that would drive the idea of Severus with Esther from his mind. “Trying to win me - “

“I will spare you the humiliation of actually having to finish that statement,” Severus said dryly, raising his hands to halt Harry’s words. “You are truly as arrogant as your father was.” Harry opened his mouth to interrupt, to snap at him for dragging his father into the discussion per usual when matters grew strained between them. Severus kept talking, raising his voice to prevent Harry jumping in, “This is not about you. Rather, our sons.”

That gave pause to any venomous comments Harry had at the ready. His anger began to dissipate as he stared at the man. Rarely did Severus refer to James and Albus as their sons, instead as “your sons” or “the boys.” Even when it was just the two of them. Maybe he thought it would keep them from slipping up, to always phrase matters that way. Maybe it eased his conscience, to separate himself from them. It always warmed Harry’s heart, the few times he acknowledged he was the biological father of his sons.

“James and Albus? What about them?”

“Albus knows.”

“Albus knows what?” If Severus wanted to talk about the boys, to call them his, something dire must have happened. Hardly able to wait as Severus considered his next words, he prompted, “Knows what?”

“He is aware that I am his father. His other father,” Severus clarified. 

“He _what_?” Harry exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He paced helplessly, thoughts whirring wildly. “You told him? Why?”

“I did not tell him,” Severus scoffed. “What sense does it make to tell him but not his brother?”

“Then how does he know?”

“I do not know how,” Severus lied. Harry knew it was a lie, knew Severus too well after all of this time. He was too smooth, his gaze too steady. “Only that he does.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I am more observant than you,” Severus spat. “That is the likely cause of our predicament. While Jim may have taken after you…”

“Does it physically hurt you to call him James?” Harry muttered. For the longest time, Severus refused to call James anything other than ‘the boy.’ They had been fighting around the time James had been born, which was why Harry decided against Evan James, the name they had originally agreed upon, and instead named him James Sirius out of spite. Severus had never used the boy’s given name, opting for the diminutive that no one, not even Severus, liked.

“…athletic and clueless. Albus, however, inherited my intellect,” Severus continued smugly. The hint of fatherly pride touched Harry, who had to turn away from him to fight back his smile. “When he remained behind the other day, he made his discovery clear to me.”

“What happened?” he asked irritably. If Albus knew, they were in trouble. They never intended anyone to know, not even the boys, loathe as he was to lie to them. It was better this way, for everyone involved. For Albus to know…

“That is between Albus and myself,” Severus replied. “Though I do believe you deserve to know. You may discuss how to proceed with your _wife_. I would suggest, of course, that you inform the other two before they find out on their own. Or before Albus divulges the information himself. He has…kept this information to himself for years, apparently. I am under the impression, however, that it is beginning to weigh on him. Better this comes from you than anyone else. Now, do try to resolve this before they come breaking down my door. As you and Ginevra made it your duty to raise the boys in a lie, it is your responsibility to explain it to them, not mine. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Harry sighed.

* * *

Albus had felt calmer, in some ways, since speaking with Severus. One on one time with his dad today went even further in easing the resentment that had been building these past six months. It felt normal, chatting about the family, Albus choosing what snacks he liked best, offering his opinion on what his dad should cook for the week. It had been a nice day spoiled on the way home when Harry mentioned offhand his plans to visit Severus. He had not responded, only gazing out at the passing scenery. 

Why was Harry going to see him alone? Could there be any reason but sex? Would Severus tell Harry what Albus knew? Perhaps there was some investigation Harry needed Severus’s advice on. Albus liked to think the middle of the day, family waiting at home, would not be the time Harry would plot a seduction. Or Severus, for that matter. 

Even if sex wasn’t the primary goal, didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen. Albus wasn’t sure he trusted them together. With a resigned sigh, he watched Harry drive off. He watched until the car was completely out of sight. He was still watching minutes later, clutching the shopping bags, lost in thought. Maybe Albus should have said something. Maybe he should have stopped him, somehow. But his presence, his input, wouldn’t change anything in the long run. If they were going to do this, Albus couldn’t stop them.

With a shake of his head, Albus finally headed inside, striding straight for the kitchen. The bags fell from his hands, staring in horror at the scene before him. James was seated on the kitchen table, arms and legs wound around Teddy who stood before him. They were making out rather enthusiastically until they heard the groceries hitting the floor. Teddy pulled away from James as though burned. The shock had his hair turning a bright, frizzy yellow. 

“Need help?” Teddy stuttered, darting forward to pick up the bags. James was grinning sheepishly as he slid off of the table, straightening the rumpled letters he’d been sitting on. 

Teddy was practically a brother to them! He was six years older than James. And, most importantly, he was engaged to their cousin. Albus stared at Teddy as he unloaded the bags and put the food away, as though nothing was wrong. He thought of beautiful Victoire, with her long blond hair and her musical laugh, and how shattered she would be if she knew. They always seemed so happy together. (Just as happy as Harry and Ginny always seemed.) What else could Teddy want but for a beautiful, kind, gifted fiancee? (Harry’s preference for a bitter, old man over his beautiful, loving wife.) 

Albus hurt for Victoire. He hurt for his mother. Two wonderful women who didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve Teddy kissing James. Didn’t deserve Harry driving off to fuck Severus in the middle of the day. 

“How could you?” Albus whispered, turning to look at his brother. Smug James, who always got what he wanted. Selfish James who had so much and always wanted more. James frowned at him warningly. Play it cool, little brother, his expression said. “How could you do this to Vic?”

Teddy flushed pink and cleared his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, but James beat him to the punch. “Ted’s always been a bit bi-curious. I was just helping him out, that’s all.”

“He’s supposed to be marrying Vic!” Albus shouted, stepping forward to shove James. James shoved him back instinctively. “You’re no better than Severus, are you?”

So close, it was so close. The words on the tip of his tongue, and they tasted rotten. 

“What’s Uncle Severus got to do with this?” James demanded.

“He’s been fucking Dad behind Mum’s back!” Albus shouted. 

James gaped at him. “What?” James laughed and glanced at Teddy, then frowned. Albus looked to Teddy, as well. Teddy who was staring determinedly at his hands as he mindlessly straightened jars on the counter. “Ted?”

“You knew?” Albus asked.

Teddy shrugged. “I…saw them. Once. Years back.”

“It’s true?” James was shocked. 

“You saw them?” Albus prompted.

“Yeah. In…Uncle Harry’s office,” Teddy explained. “Severus was…” Albus didn’t understand how Teddy’s face could turn even redder. He gestured helplessly. 

“He was what?” Albus demanded, morbidly curious.

“He…he was…” his face was pained as he whispered “sucking him off.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I was, like, twelve, I think. I ran off before they could see me. At least, I don’t think they saw me. No one ever said anything.”

“Oh my God,” James said weakly, plopping gracelessly into a chair.

“Do you know the rest of it, then?” Albus asked, seized by horrible adrenaline, the high of finally setting the truth free. 

Teddy’s brows furrowed. “The rest?”

“Did you know Severus is our father?”

“No,” Teddy breathed. His mouth hung open, gaping incredulously at Albus.

“He is not!” James exclaimed. “What the fuck, Al? Knock it off. Both of you knock it off.”

“Severus knocked up Dad, James!” Albus argued. “And you inherited your selfishness from them both.” 

Albus left them, then, storming off to his bedroom. Awful relief filled him up, even as guilt ate away at his gut. Good riddance, he thought. It was the least they deserved, all of them. None of them cared about commitment, about love, about anyone but themselves. Albus collapsed into his bed, hugging his pillow to his chest, and it was a while before he realized he was crying.


	3. Chapter 3: To Act on Every Feeling (is to be a Child)

James stared into the mirror for a long time. This was not necessarily unusual. So what if he liked to primp and preen before presenting himself to the world? What was unusual was the length of time, though his siblings exaggerated his narcissism and might disagree. Also unusual was the uncertain frown he wore, the furrowing of his brows, the searching as he examined every inch of his body. James was normally quite pleased by his reflection. He resembled his dad a great deal, people told him. Only minor inconsistencies prevailed; the high cheekbones, the hawkish nose, thin yet shapely lips gave him a distinguished look, he thought. Credit for the nose was given to a Weasley ancestor; others may have teased him for it had he not owned it so proudly. Now it was remarked upon with admiration. James stroked the offending nose lightly, trying to convince himself it wasn’t the very nose protruding from Severus Snape’s face. He could almost do it. His wasn’t so markedly hooked. His mouth was less vicious, he thought.

The eyes, though. Those seemed the most damning evidence of all. They had always been attributed to ancestors through the Potter line, with no evidence to show for it. The night-dark irises were all too familiar in the face of his godfather. Or his father, was he? 

James shook his head in denial. Albus was lying. Attention-seeking. He was only upset over finding him with Teddy. But why that lie? It didn’t make sense. Why would Harry have taken a pregnancy potion to conceive with his hideous paramour? James could hardly believe such an illicit affair even took place, regardless of what Teddy said, what Teddy thought he saw. Denials rang through James’s mind even as rage simmered in his belly. He barely caught sight of the tear sliding down his cheek as his fist slammed into the mirror. 

It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.

* * *

The house was unnaturally quiet when Harry arrived home. Half of the morning’s groceries lay forgotten on the counter, but Harry paid them no mind as he crossed into the backyard. The boys were absent, but his girls were there. Lily was flying in circles on her broom. Spotting him, his daughter draped herself backwards, using her knees to clutch the broom and kept herself airborne. Harry forced a laugh and waved to her as she rolled the broom and came back into an upright position, seated properly. Ginny was sitting at small patio table, scratching out a draft for her next Quidditch article. 

Long red hair was piled unceremoniously on her head, held up by two golden sticks. The simple, cream colored blouse she wore hung loosely on her slender frame, contrasting with the snugness of her marigold slacks. She was barefoot, legs folded in the chair, her shoes set neatly beneath. Her freckles were a bright, merry presence on her pale face; her brown eyes as warm and sweet as chocolate as they lifted to greet him. Pink lips curled into a pleased smile as he stepped nearer to press a tender kiss to her forehead. 

His wife was lovely, truly. Yet he thought on the burning need that left him so dizzy earlier today, and how he had never craved her with such intensity. Anyone would think him mad to have such lust inspired not by beautiful Ginny, but by crude and homely Severus Snape. Even now, restless yearning crawled beneath his skin, too freshly stirred by his old lover. 

“We need to talk,” he whispered into her hair. 

Her smile fell away at his tone, but she called out to their daughter, “Lily, come down now! Your father and I are going inside.”

“But Mum!” Lily exclaimed.

“Now, Lily!” Ginny repeated firmly. She always used a gentler tone with Lily than with the boys. Harry wondered if she knew, if his sons ever noticed the slight difference in how their mother treated their sister. 

Lily huffed, muttering under her breath as she flew down and stowed her broom away in the shed. Ginny would have fussed the boys for such a tantrum, but she only gave Lily a stern look that quieted the girl into a pout. Harry pinched her chin affectionately. “We’ll fly together this weekend, just you and me, pumpkin. How about that?” Lily beamed at him, instantly cheered, bounding into the house ahead of her parents. 

Harry and Ginny shared not a word as they climbed the stairs, disappearing into their bedroom. Harry shut the door and cast a silencing charm. He had a feeling this conversation would grow loud, and the children did not need to be made aware of matters just yet. 

“Severus asked to see me today,” Harry began, resigned. “I went. Nothing happened.”

Ginny nodded stiffly, folding her arms protectively across her chest. “What did he want?”

“Albus knows. Who Severus really is,” Harry explained.

Her jaw dropped, bright brown eyes wide in horror. For several seconds her mouth moved soundlessly before stuttering out, “What? How does Al know? Did Snape tell him? That bastard! It was his bright idea that we hide this to begin with!” She ranted, shock diminishing into temper. Her nostrils flared as she lifted her chin, arms falling away from her chest to gesture wildly. “He’s the one who suggested I fake pregnancy, to pass them off as mine! He was too much of a coward to accept them as his own. He cared more for his peace and quiet than his responsibility!” She fumed, pacing the room, talking loudly over Harry as he attempted to interject. “I have no regrets, Harry, I don’t - they are my sons whether they came from my womb or not. But for him to spill the beans like this, without a word to us, to take matters into his own hands - why? Why would he do this? After all of these years, why now?”

Harry frowned as she ranted about Severus, half wanting to defend the man, but mostly agreeing with her. Severus loved their sons, deep down, but it hadn’t been enough for him to risk his reputation or his solitude. Weekly visits were more than enough for him, leaving Harry and Ginny the duty of raising them. 

Ginny had never wavered, never thought twice about accepting the boys as her own. She had loved them from the start. She was right; she was their mother, regardless of blood. This was one of many reasons he loved her. This was what made Ginny the person he belonged with. She stood by him through his infidelities, willing to make their marriage work no matter how many times he fell into Severus’s bed. She might shout and cry, she might stay with her parents from time to time, might throw her wedding ring across the room, but she always came back with determination. She would demand he straighten his act, and he would for a time. She would fight him every step of the way, holding him accountable. Ginny stayed through it all, willing to raise and love children she didn’t bear. She was strong enough to comfort him when Severus wounded him with his words and his indifference. She set aside her gloating for a day when the wounds stung less. Ginny was the glue holding their family together. She had always been a better wife than he deserved.

That was why, five years ago, he recommitted himself to her and their marriage. He didn’t visit Severus unaccompanied. He didn’t let Severus get away with more than a few kisses. Harry attended biweekly therapy sessions, and monthly couple’s therapy with Ginny. Their marriage was stronger than it had ever been before. He couldn’t take back everything he had done, but he had striven to be a better husband to her, one who might be worthy of her devotion one day. 

“Sev didn’t tell Al,” Harry replied. 

“Then who did?” Ginny snorted, rolling her eyes. “Don’t tell me you believe him.”

“Why would he tell Al and not James?” Harry pointed out. “You know how Al is. He snoops. We always said he’d be an excellent detective.” He smiled hopefully, but let it fall away in the face of her furious frown. James liked to argue that Albus would make a better spy, but that comparison to his other father always stung Ginny. Harry knew Ginny was thinking of just that now. “He’s known for a while, Severus says. He just…I dunno…told Severus last weekend. He’s…he worries if Al told him, he may tell others. It…He thinks it would be better coming from us.”

“Of course,” Ginny spat bitterly. “Leaving it up to us, as always.”

Harry couldn’t refute this, so instead he shrugged. “They are ours, Ginny. Yours and mine. It should come from us.”

Her posture softened, but only slightly. “No. Harry, no. We can’t. Albus can’t possibly have any proof. No one would even believe it. I hardly believe it, and this is my life.” She shook her head. “They’ll think he’s lying and we can move on. We can probably convince Al he has the wrong idea. I don’t know how he found out, but he can’t be sure. We worked too hard on this.”

Harry sighed and sank down onto the bed, watching her pace restlessly. “Maybe this is a sign, Gin. We can’t keep lying to them forever.”

Her eyes flashed. “This was what you and Snape wanted, remember?”

“He’s the one who - !”

“Yes, it was his idea, but you agreed with it. You helped him with his plans,” Ginny reminded him.

“I never wanted to…” Harry argued, feeling his own temper rise to the surface. He never wanted his life to be this way. Honestly, he wanted Severus to be a real father to James and Albus. Even if they couldn’t be together, Severus could at least acknowledge them. Severus made it crystal clear from day one that he had no plans of being a father, but Harry maintained hope that Severus would change his mind, at least be a father in private. Towards the end of his pregnancy, the man made it clear that he was very serious. 

“What’s all this?” Harry had demanded _that day_ when he entered his living room. He and Ginny had just returned from an event. Upon entering their home, they dropped their glamours. Ginny’s maternity dress now hung loosely on her slim body while Harry’s robes were now tight around his heavily pregnant form. 

It was not the presence of Severus Snape in their living room that caught them off guard. Hannah and Neville Longbottom also waited, sitting on the couch and watching Severus with bemusement. Photo albums, parchment, and books surrounded the man as he knelt before a small chest, efficiently packing away several items. 

“Careless proof,” Severus barked. “You’re due to give birth in less than a month, Potter. You must begin as you mean to go.” He pulled a photo from a nearby album and waved it for the couple to see. “How will you explain this to the child?”

Harry frowned as he approached, peering into the chest. Ginny came to his side, placing a hand on his arm as she, too, looked. Stacks of letters to the left, journals in the middle, and photos to the right. Photos of Harry, pregnant. The one Severus dropped on top was of Harry and Ginny. The couple smiled sweetly at one another as Ginny rubbed his growing belly. Ginny stiffened beside him as yet another picture was added to the pile, this one of Harry with Severus. It was a rare image, one likely snapped by sentimental Hannah. In it, the pair stood in Severus’s kitchen, Severus cradling Harry in his arms, foreheads pressed together, both laughing. Harry couldn’t remember what had been said, but he remembered the joy of that moment. That joy crumbled within him now, vision blurred with unshed tears. 

“Oh,” Harry said. Ginny rubbed his arm soothingly. 

“No one is going to come across them,” Ginny said. “How did you even find all of this?”

“It wasn’t difficult,” Severus retorted, sharply tugging another image free from a nearby album. “What happens when your family visits and peruses your albums, Ginevra? What happens when Evan stumbles upon incriminating evidence tossed negligently into a spare drawer? He would have questions. Questions you are unprepared to answer.”

“Evan?” Harry muttered, absently stroking his stomach, feeling the child kick eagerly at the sound of his name. “Questions? What are you on about?” 

Severus eyed him. “Are you honestly this thick, or does your wife get off on your stupidity?”

“About as much as Harry gets off on being tormented, I’m sure,” Ginny said dryly, taking Harry’s hand in her own, standing tall at his side.

“What would you know about getting Harry off, Ginevra?” Severus replied coolly. 

“I’m his wife,” Ginny growled through clenched teeth. 

“Yet, after all of these years you’re not pregnant. He, however, is…and with _my_ offspring, for that matter,” Severus said smugly. 

“What are you talking about?” Harry demanded again, loudly, before either could continue their sniping. 

“I am warning you to hide these mementos lest your progeny uncover the truth of his parentage,” Severus explained, as to a child. 

“Oh,” Harry said, at a loss for words. His mind was blank, ice dropping into his gut. Ginny gave his hand a light squeeze, keeping him grounded. “Right. Can’t have that.”

Up until then, Harry only assumed they would be hiding the truth from the world at large. He never considered keeping the secret from Evan, as well. That was when it became real to him. He sat numbly on the couch to let Hannah perform her examination spells. Ginny sat beside him, always touching a shoulder, or his back, or his leg, reminding him of her support. Harry watched Severus work while Hannah spoke. The baby was healthy, growth on track, and he would be here before they knew it. Severus muttered about their foolishness all the while. “…waited too long to employ the glamours…lucky the potion isn’t public yet…no one thought twice about your extra weight…”

In the days that followed, Severus popped in frequently to check their house top to bottom, to be sure he didn’t miss a scrap of evidence. Anything remotely incriminating was sealed away in the chest now tucked away in the attic. Harry said not a word to him for the remainder of his pregnancy. When the man would leave, he would rant to Ginny about how Severus never cared for Harry or Evan or for anyone but himself. The git only visited to keep an eye on them, to protect his precious secret. What had he ever seen in the bastard, anyway? Ginny always listened, happily agreeing with every insult aimed towards the man. 

When he finally went into labor, Ginny firecalled Hannah and Hannah only. His wife was pleased when he demanded Severus not be alerted. Ginny held his hand as he labored, murmuring encouragement, and it was Ginny who sat by his side, smiling down at the babe in her arms, radiant with a mother’s love. “Hi there, Evan.”

“James,” Harry corrected, resting his head on her shoulder to gaze down at his newborn. The boy already had tufts of wild black hair, and what promised to be Severus’s unfortunate nose. “His name is James Sirius Potter.” It did not have the ring to it Evan James did, but they were names that mattered to him. Evan had been Severus’s choice, named for Harry’s mother. For her maiden name. Harry’s mother, who Severus had loved, if he was capable of loving at all. Harry shared his mother’s eyes, and he wondered if they were all Severus had seen when buried so deeply inside of him, gaze intent on his own, never wavering. Was it Lily Severus thought of when spilling himself inside of her son? 

No. Severus wanted no part of Evan’s life, so why should he have a say in his name? James for Harry’s father, Sirius for his godfather; it made sense to give his son the names of the two most important men in his life. A more vindictive side of Harry cheered, agreeing that they were also the names of the two men that had given Severus hell. More than anything Harry was hurt, wanting no part in the name Severus helped create. For the first time in a long time, Harry believed he would never want anything to do with the bastard ever again.

It was weeks before the Potters announced the arrival of James Sirius. Only when it was reported in the _Prophet_ did Severus learn of his son’s birth and his new moniker. He stormed their Godric’s Hollow home in a rage. That had been a spectacular fight, ending only when Ginny shouted at them that they were disturbing the baby and should keep it down. For all of the man’s anger, Harry could sense the hurt beneath. Severus had missed the birth and had not seen his son once in the week since. Not to mention the gall of Harry to give their child that particular name. 

Harry shook his head to dispel the recollection. He had never wanted this lie, but he had allowed it; allowed it to entrap them all, with seemingly no way out. It was easy, this lie. Easier than living with the truth. Everyone accepted the lie. It was the life they’d expected to see for the Potters. A happy, beautiful couple with three happy, beautiful children. The lie held his marriage together. The lie protected his children, for Harry could only imagine what attention would be directed at them if the truth was known. It protected his sons from the painful knowledge that the man who sired them had little interest in them. 

Ginny, too, appeared lost in her own thoughts, blinking rapidly as she came back to the present. “You let it come to this, Harry. You could have told him no. You didn’t have to let him have his way. You _both_ thought it for the best. Don’t deny it. You always wanted a normal life. And being my husband, and those being my sons, was a hell of a lot more ‘normal’ than anything you could have had with Snape. You also know you could never have the life you want with him, because he would never allow it.”

Her voice cracked here and she turned away from him. Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He hurt for her, and the pain he caused her. “Ginny, no. You know I love you.”

“You love me?” she laughed. “I want to believe you. Most days I do. But I have to wonder if you even know what love is. Because this? This isn’t love.”

“I do love you!” he argued, reaching out for her, grasping her shoulders and turning her towards him. “I swear, Ginny, I do love you.” He did, he really did. It might not be the same love he had for Severus, but it was love. “I don’t want to fight with you. I came to tell you what I learned because you are my wife, and you are the mother of my children, and this is a decision for you and me to make. No one else.”

“Then why did you come in here spouting Snape’s demands, hm?” she said. Her mouth was open, prepared to unleash a new tirade when there was a banging on the door. Before either could move, the door burst open.

“James?” Ginny said. 

“I can’t believe you,” James said, voice trembling. “You lied to us!”

“Oh no,” Ginny whispered.

“James,” Harry said.

“Shut up!” James shouted. Albus appeared in the doorway, face pale, staring at his brother in horror. By contrast, James’s face was red and wet with tears. His glare was all for his dad. “Snape is our dad? Is it true? Is it?”

A gasp from Lily as she entered the scene, gaping from one person to the next. “What?”

Harry turned to Ginny. His wife was hugging herself, watching her children with sympathy. They weren’t prepared for this, hadn’t had a chance to discuss how to handle this. Now she wouldn’t even look at him. Harry sighed heavily and faced his oldest son. “Yes. He is.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” James shouted. “Him? What about Mum? You cheated on her, did you?”

He hesitated only a moment before nodding his head. It hadn’t been cheating when James was conceived, but it had eventually come to that. “That’s right.”

“With _Snape_ of all people?” James demanded. “Mum’s pretty! And she’s really nice, and…and good at Quidditch, and…she loves you! Why wasn’t that enough? Why him? He’s an ugly, mean, old git!”

“That’s…complicated,” Harry explained, glancing guiltily to his wife. Her head was bowed against the pain. 

“And you!” James shouted, jabbing his finger towards his mother. “Why did you stay with him? Don’t you have any goddamn self-respect?”

“Do _not_ speak to your mother like that!” Harry shouted, grabbing his son’s wrist and shoving his arm down. James was still glaring at her.

“You lied to us, too!” he accused. “Why? You didn’t have to lie for him! He’s a cheating sod who doesn’t deserve a damned thing from you! Where’s your pride, woman?”

“That is enough!” Harry barked as Ginny barked, “I am your mother and you will speak to me with respect!”

“You are not my mother!” James sobbed. “All I have is a genetic link to two scumbags!”

“That is enough!” Harry roared. “Go to your room until you can calm down!”

“No. I’m out of here,” James said, shoving Harry hard. He spun on his heels and shoved past his siblings out of the room. Lily’s hands covered her tear-streaked face. Albus stared after his brother’s retreating form. Harry moved to follow his oldest son, but Albus moved to stop him. 

“Let him go,” Albus said. “Let him calm down.”

“You told him?” Harry snapped. 

Albus frowned, looking guiltily to his feet. “Someone had to.”

Harry was prepared to unleash his bubbling emotions on the nearest target, when Ginny spoke. “Leave him alone, Harry. The damage is done. Don’t make it worse.”

“Daddy, how could you?” Lily sobbed, sprinting past him into her mother’s arms. Albus darted from the room before Harry could start in on him again. Harry looked after him, then helplessly back to his wife and daughter. 

“Get out,” Ginny mouthed to him over Lily’s head. 

Harry wanted to go to them, to hold them, to make it right. In one afternoon his perfect life had shattered, laying in shards around him, and he had no one to blame but himself. 

Well. One other person could share in this. Harry would make sure he did.

* * *

It was bad form to Apparate directly into someone’s house, but James was not in his right mind when leaving home. Victoire gasped in surprise to see him, dropping the glass of wine she’d been sipping while cooking dinner. “James!” she fussed, a flick of her wand mending the broken glass. She frowned when she got a good look at his face. “James, what’s the matter?”

His cousin had not been the person he sought, but naturally she would be present in the house she shared with Teddy. He couldn’t bear to look at her, after what he’d done. Victoire set aside her glass and promptly enveloped James into her arms, making soothing sounds as he sobbed into her neck. 

“I didn’t know where else to go,” James whimpered, clinging to her. 

“That’s quite alright,” Victoire whispered, stroking his hair. “You’re always welcome here.” 

Though it was initially Teddy he sought, it was Victoire’s welcome he now wanted. Would she still welcome him if she knew he’d kissed Teddy? If she knew they weren’t really cousins? The truth was a dirty thing. No wonder his family worked so hard to cover theirs. This thought only made him sob harder, barely able to stand. 

Worse still when a warm, solid body pressed in from behind, strong arms wrapping around James and Victoire both. Worse that his presence stirred James’s soul even now. James squeezed his eyes shut, barely daring to breathe. Too late now to turn and run. 

“What happened?” Teddy asked quietly.

“He won’t say,” Victoire whispered.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” James repeated, relaxing in their comforting embrace. He couldn’t bear to rehash everything he had learned. He couldn’t admit the shame of what he had said and done this day. All he had known, all that he was, it was all a lie. The very fabric of his reality was torn and frayed beyond recognition. James didn’t know who he was anymore, or where to go from here.

However soothing their hugs and their words, neither Teddy nor Victoire could mend him.

* * *

Possessing more tact than his brother, Albus firecalled the Malfoy residence for permission to visit before Flooing in. Draco was calling for his son when Albus stepped into their sitting room, portraying more calmness than he felt. He was on the verge of unraveling, and he was unsure if he wanted to fall apart or hold himself together. Whatever his choice, this was the only safe place left to do so. 

Draco frowned at him with concern. “Good afternoon, Albus.”

“Sir,” Albus said stiffly. Not daring to say more, lest he say too much. The slightest of prompting was all it might take. Even now, he didn’t know if he dared share what he knew. Already the consequences of revelation were crashing down upon his family, and it was only within the family for now.

Scorpius scampered downstairs, swiftly entering the room. “Al!” Scorpius called cheerfully. “What are you doing here?”

“Mr. Malfoy, is it alright if I stay the night?” Albus asked, tone carefully blank. 

“Of course,” Draco agreed, inclining his head. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Er…c’mon, then,” Scorpius said, leading Albus up to his bedroom. Neither spoke until the door closed them off from the world. Albus breathed, then, and flopped down onto his best friend’s bed. It was a large bed for one person, let alone one so lanky. 

It worked well for sleepovers, though Draco normally set him up in a guest room. Always he and Scorpius shared the large bed, pulling the hangings closed like at school. This was grander than their dormitory, though. The Malfoys came from old money, and a prestigious name. The room hardly looked lived in, though Albus knew the closet and drawers were full to the brim with knick-knacks and sentimental items. One full drawer contained objects belonging to his late mother. 

This house had always been a curiosity to Albus, who even after numerous visits had yet to grow bored of the mansion. Scorpius swore there were Dark objects and family heirlooms hidden about, though neither boy had ever found any. This intrigue held little interest to Albus this day. 

“I could use a distraction,” Albus said. “I don’t want to think right now.”

“Well…I might have something for that,” Scorpius said with a sheepish grin. He pulled a box from beneath his bed, liquor bottles and potion phials clinking enticingly. Albus perked up. “I was hoarding them until you could visit again, and…well…here you are.” The box was set on the mattress as Scorpius climbed up beside him. Unicorn tears, firewhisky, pixie mucus, mead…Albus reached inside, shifting the bottles into some semblance of order.

“Excellent haul, Scorp.”

* * *

Ginny held Lily close, mother and daughter laying side by side in bed. Lily had stopped sobbing a time ago, though she still sniffled, and the occasional tear slid down her blotchy face. 

“Jay and Al are really Uncle Sev’rus’s kids? With Dad?” Lily whispered.

“Yes,” Ginny agreed numbly.

“Are…are they in love, do you think?” Lily asked.

Ginny didn’t respond for a long moment. She thought of the possessive fire in Snape when he looked at her husband. She thought of her husband’s hopeful perk whenever the other man was near. Lust, on one end. On the other? After all of these years, she felt the dull ache of knowledge her heart possessed that her mind refused. Pondering these things, Ginny wiped Lily’s tears and pressed a kiss to the girl’s head.

“Your father loves us,” Ginny assured her. “You, your brothers, and me. Anything beyond that is…complicated.” Lily snuggled closer and hiccuped. 

“He’s…not going to leave, is he?” Lily asked. 

Ginny swallowed. “Of course not. He’ll never leave us.” It was the only thing Ginny knew with certainty. Harry would never leave his family. Not unless she made him.

* * *

Harry stood outside of Severus’s door, head pressed against the wood as he banged on it for the third time. Finally he heard approaching footsteps, and straightened in time for the door to creak open. A sheen of sweat on the man’s face gleamed in the moonlight, and he stank of potion fumes. Harry swayed, wanting to press himself into that flat chest and breathe him in. He was wrecked, unsure he could cling to his tattered self-control. 

“Back so soon?” Severus sneered.

“I need a drink.”

Hesitation lasted only a handful of seconds. It had been many years since the last request of its kind. Harry had quit the bottle before he’d quit Severus’s bed. 

“For a ‘please’ you may pick your poison,” Severus agreed, stepping aside to welcome him in. Harry walked into the middle of the living room, murmuring a quick spell to the light the fireplace. He stared into the orange flames, too aware of the figure hovering behind him.

“Please,” Harry whispered, wishing it didn’t sound so needy, didn’t sound like he wanted anything other than a drink. Severus moved closer, his front brushing Harry’s back teasingly. Long fingers settled at his hips, mouth breathing against his ear.

“What do you desire?” Severus purred.

Harry turned his head, breath stuttering as a shiver rolled down his spine. That silken voice had always undone him. Now Severus’s lips were not even an inch from his own. Harry could recall the taste of them, more destructive and addicting than firewhisky had ever been. They breathed the same air. Harry was tempted to close the distance. Why not? His marriage was in shambles. His family hated him. If his family was broken, why not surrender to what he’d denied himself these past five years? He touched himself more often than he could count with that darkly delicious voice rumbling in his fantasies. How often had he struggled to banish midnight’s stare as he made love to his wife? 

Severus’s grip tugged him closer and Harry tilted his head away so that Severus instead mouthed along his jaw. Too long since he’d felt the heat and fullness inside of him, a feeling his fingers could never replicate. He could have that. Severus was hard where he ground against him and his own manhood stirred with interest. What did he have to lose?

A lot. He hadn’t actually lost anything yet. His family was rightfully upset. That did not mean they were a lost cause. It might take time and effort, but it might be mended yet. It did no good to cross this line if he could still save what he had.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” Harry whispered, stepping out of Severus’s grasp. The man huffed disdainfully. 

“Then why did you?”

Harry rubbed a hand over his face, glasses pushing up into his hair as he did so. Severus plucked them off before they could fall. 

“They know. They all know.”

“Hmm,” was all Severus said, summoning the firewhisky and pouring him a glass. Harry didn’t look at the man as he accepted the drink. 

He didn’t need to. He could feel the heat of that gaze, trailing down his spine like a caress. That ravenous consideration, as if Harry were a feast and Severus was determining where to start. Anywhere, he could start anywhere, and Harry could let himself be devoured gladly. Let Severus take what he wanted, use him how he saw fit, because that hunger gnawed in his own gut. Hunger that could be satiated in only one way. 

Harry gulped down his firewhisky, the liquor sloshing down his neck in his haste. “Don’t look at me like that,” he rasped. “We can’t.”

Cool fingers rubbed the back of his neck, Severus shifting ever closer. Harry sighed, melting back into him even as he grasped his glass in both hands, clinging to some shred of control, to stop himself touching as he pleased. “Don’t delude yourself into thinking there’s anything left for you there,” the man purred. 

“Please. Don’t,” Harry warned, shrugging away from his touch.

Severus scoffed in disgust, slamming the bottle down onto the nearby table. “Why do you insist upon hiding here only to torment us both?” he demanded, pain mingling with his frustration. It was not often Severus hinted at his deeper feelings for Harry, particularly since Harry ended their affair for good. It wasn’t right, what Harry did, and he knew it. Everyone was hurt by his actions. Even stone-cold Severus Snape. And it was Severus who always got the raw end of the deal. Harry hated himself for this, watching sadly as Severus stiffly walked away from him. 

“Why do you let me?” he asked quietly. 

Severus said nothing, did not look his way. Instead he sat in his usual spot, nursing his own glass of firewhisky. Harry poured himself a new glass and stared at the fire as they drank in silence.


	4. When Lips Never Moved

Waking in warm, strong arms, Harry felt more at peace than he had in ages. Lips curled up appreciatively, nuzzling into the bony chest of his pillow. Elegant fingers brushed through his hair, tracing the lightning bolt scar, the backs trailing down his cheek, thumb ghosting across parted lips. Unthinkingly he gave it a soft kiss, tip of his tongue peeking out for a taste. Hearing a sharp intake of breath, he blinked up lazily at the sallow face hovering above his. 

Perhaps it was his half-asleep state that attributed to his thoughtless actions. Perhaps it was the look of reverence softening sharp features. Instead of the scalding flames of passion, or the sharp ice of hatred, there was warmth in Severus’s unguarded expression. Unable to resist, he pressed a kiss to lips that had been tempting him for so long. 

Severus froze in surprise. Harry stroked down the man’s spine, lips softly prompting until hesitantly Severus kissed him back. Harry sighed into his mouth as Severus rolled him onto his back, cold hand cupping his neck. Tender caresses turned urgent as Harry draped his arms loosely around his lover, letting Severus take what he wanted from him, sleepily enjoying the ride. The man’s erection pressed eagerly into his stomach and Harry could feel his own manhood responding to the feel of it. Severus shifted his hips to press their members together and Harry groaned, clutching at him tightly, bucking up into the contact. 

He was wide awake by the time Severus’s mouth latched onto his neck, rutting fervently against him. “Oh,” Harry gasped as the older wizard sucked at the sensitive area beneath his ear. Pleasure he’d never known with his wife raked through him. They were already here, caught in the tide, and Harry wanted nothing more than to let it carry him away. Why not see it through, what had already begun? Why not strip away the fabric that separated them, to feel the silken heat of his lover bare against him? 

“Stop,” Harry gasped, pushing halfheartedly at the man. “Please, stop.”

Severus stilled on top of him, breath hot against his flesh, hips still flush against his own. Harry squeezed his eyes shut against the urge to squirm against him. Seconds ticked by until Severus finally punched the mattress on either side of him angrily, shoving himself away. Harry rolled onto his side away from him, willing his erection away. He felt the shift of the mattress as Severus stood.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered, pressing a shaky hand to his face. “Why are we in bed together?” 

“We were drunk,” Severus said irritably. “Even I cannot explain my actions whilst inebriated.” 

Not a lie, really, but not the full truth. Harry didn’t remember much about last night, only drinking and lamenting the distance between them. He had the sneaking suspicion that Severus had intentionally put him in bed with him. But why? They hadn’t shagged, that he could tell. Why else? For a cuddle? Harry smiled at the thought, half amused, half touched. Somehow he doubted that was the case. 

“I need a shower,” he said, sitting up. A cold one, preferably. 

Severus nodded. “Breakfast?”

“Yes, please.”

Harry took his time showering to settle his nerves. What was a little kissing and rubbing compared to past betrayals? He hadn’t been in his right mind, he assured himself, and he’d stopped before things could progress further. It was shameful, how so much of him regretted it. 

By the time he made it downstairs, breakfast was in full swing. Severus normally ate a light breakfast, but he had a full spread this morning. Harry generally preferred a larger breakfast, and was pleased to see it. Without a word he set himself to task, helping finish the sausage and brewing the coffee. 

Harry recalled the first night they cooked together, wine drunk and as they attempted pasta. His face heated at the memory of licking sauce from Severus’s mouth. Of wine spilling to the floor as he was pushed against the counter. He’d grinned when Severus cast a charm to keep the food fresh for them before returning to where Harry sat waiting on the counter top. Calloused fingers brushing his cheek.

“I hear you’ve won _Witch Weekly_ ’s Most Charming Smile again,” Severus teased. The Lockhart comparison went unsaid, but was noted. 

Harry laughed, poking his ribs. “Do you find me charming?”

Sober eyes bore into his own as Severus whispered, “I find you exquisite.”

Heart full to bursting, he’d slipped off of the counter and pushed Severus back, intending to get them to the couch in the living room. Instead, they had drunkenly fallen to the floor. Wasting no more time, Harry pressed his mouth to his lover’s, fumbling with his trousers. They used yogurt from the fridge as lube to hastily prepare him before he sank onto his lover’s cock. 

That was the night they’d conceived Albus.

After, they finished their pasta and ate it on the floor, naked. They left their dirty dishes there to make love a second time before the hearth on a makeshift bed of pillows and blankets. Still loose and wet from earlier, his lover slid into him easily, both sighing into each other’s mouths. It was slower, then, holding each other close as Severus rocked leisurely into him. Severus still held him after, the pair drifting into contented sleep.

“Stop daydreaming before you burn something,” Severus snapped, breaking Harry’s reverie. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Harry muttered. That had not been their only night cooking and fucking, and occasionally they forgot to spare their meals. He colored once he realized what he’d said, but Severus only smirked. 

He had to get Severus out of his head, and soon. Images of their past replayed themselves over and over in his head, clinging to the memories of what must never happen again. 

Food was levitated to the table once complete, Severus fixing himself a plate of plain toast while Harry fixed a heaping plate for himself. Eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, porridge, and even a side of fruit and yogurt. Harry eyed the yogurt as if it might bite him. Severus watched him with a twitch of his lips. 

“Shut it,” Harry grumbled, stuffing eggs into his mouth. The smirk only grew and Harry laughed around his eggs. 

“I’ve never known a better use for yogurt,” Severus said as he reached for the cup. Harry swallowed as Severus held slipped a spoonful into his mouth. _Cold, yogurt slicked finger sliding inside of him._ He squirmed.

“Too cold,” Harry said distractedly, eying his tongue as it licked the spoon clean. _Tongue probing inside of him, Harry’s mouth falling open in a soundless cry, his breath and voice stolen as he was tasted and explored._ Harry blinked the imagery away, only to be replaced by _tongue swiping across the leaking head of his cock, watching his shaft disappear inside of the hot furnace of his lover’s mouth_. It took the scalding coffee burning down his throat to chase them away for good. Hot, much too hot. 

“I never found it to be so.” Still smugly smirking. 

Harry cleared his throat. “Thanks for this, by the way.”

Severus nodded, setting the yogurt aside in favor of his toast. “Happy to oblige.” Difficult not to watch the way the bread slipped into his mouth, determinedly holding back ideas of what he would rather put in that mouth. Harry grabbed the yogurt for himself, hoping its coldness would ease the heat within. 

“Harry?” called a voice from the next room. 

Harry jumped in his chair. “Ginny?” The cold shock of her presence doused the flames far quicker than the yogurt could. He had not heard the Floo, had not expected her to step into this house. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Ginny said without looking at either of them. “Harry, my appointment is today, remember? Lily shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“Right,” Harry said. “Sure, I’ll head home right away.” Ginny usually saw her therapist on Mondays, not Sundays, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. “Thanks for the meal, Severus.”

“Of course.” 

Ginny swept out of the room without another word. He heard her Floo to Marietta’s office. Harry paused, feeling he should say something more, but Severus was already clearing the table with a wave of his wand and walking away. “Right,” Harry muttered to himself. 

There he stood, for a minute longer than he should have. Where had Severus walked off to? What would have happened, had Ginny not entered when she did? Could Harry have held himself back? Did he want to hold back? So close he had come this morning, to just letting himself go. Even now he could find Severus, could prompt him into a quickie before heading home.

Lily did not need to be alone in a time like this, Ginny had said, and she was right. His daughter was waiting for him at home. His daughter was at home, upset, because of him. That was the most sobering thought of all.

* * *

Albus woke at nearly noon to the most atrocious migraine of his life. Albus groaned miserably and pulled a pillow over his face. The motion of this caused a churning of his stomach and bile to rise to his throat. Cursing the Albus of the previous night, Albus braced himself against the agony and hurtled himself through the bathroom door. He didn’t quite make it to the toilet in time.

“Merlin and Morgana,” cursed Scorpius, stumbling into the room. “Here, we’ll have to clean it up the Muggle way so Father doesn’t ask questions.” 

‘We’ was actually Scorpius, who handed Albus a hangover concoction to nurse while Scorpius cleaned up the sick. Albus wondered if it was one of his father’s creations, because if it was, he had another item to hate him for. It tasted rank, like rotten eggs stuffed into sweaty socks. Albus coughed, half wanting to vomit again, but the potion coated his insides, holding everything in. 

The potion made him worse before it made him better. One solid minute of his skull splitting in two, of his roiling stomach, the violent swaying of the room that had him laying out on the floor. He was sweating by the time the effects wore off, the pain and nausea sweeping out of him suddenly. Albus shot up, now energized, body urging that it could very well run a marathon and more. 

“Awful, innit?” Scorpius asked, setting aside filthy towels. “Better than the alternative. You’d be pitiful all day without it.”

“Severus?” Albus inquired.

“Think so,” agreed Scorpius. He was washing his hands now. Albus could see his very serious face in the mirror as he considered. “Best and worst hangover potion on the market. Who else could it be?” 

Albus nodded thoughtfully. Was this another potion Severus “tested” on Harry? Back in the days when Harry was a lush? Vindictive pleasure at the idea of his dad going through that hellish recovery period, tasting the aftertaste of eggs and socks that lingered on Albus’s tongue now. 

“So,” said Scorpius nervously. “He’s…your father, right?”

Albus blinked owlishly at Scorpius. Newfound energy spurred his mind to action. Rifling through the memories of last night. Too many drinks, too many potions; no wonder he woke in such a state. What had he said? He hadn’t meant to say a word, had he? Albus only wanted to forget, wanted distraction. Distraction, indeed, those bottles and phials. Intoxication pulling forth truths better left hidden. 

Everyone would be okay, had Albus left well enough alone. Everyone had been just fine before he opened his big mouth. He could have addressed the situation with James and Teddy without bringing up the family secret. He didn’t need to compare the situation; the wrongness of the liaison spoke for itself. All he’d had to do was mention Victoire and how they were hurting her. That was enough, wasn’t it?

But what of his mother? What of Ginny, who had lived with her husband’s adultery for so long? Didn’t she deserve his defense? What could he have done there? Confronted his dad about it? Confronted Severus about it? What would he have said? Would it have mattered?

Besides, didn’t they deserve to know, his siblings? This involved them, as well. James, especially. James, who didn’t know of his true parentage. Did it matter that he’d been living a lie his whole life? Wasn’t it better to have the truth out there? Wasn’t it owed to them, the people it affected the most?

“I told you?” Albus asked, lowering his head in shame. He shouldn’t feel such guilt, he told himself. This was his secret to share. What did it matter, how it affected his fathers? They were the ones in the wrong. Any backlash either received was no less than they deserved. 

“Yeah,” Scorpius nodded, still washing his hands, as if he didn’t know what else to do. “Dad was always surprised they were friends. Says they loathed each other back in your dad’s schooldays. Well, Harry your dad, not Severus your dad. Anyway. Yeah. He’d die of shock if he knew they were…well…that.” His rambling died off lamely. “Um…I don’t…Well, it’s not your fault, what happened. You know? You…You’re still Albus. You’re still my best friend. If…you know…if you were worried.”

Albus hadn’t spared it much thought, as he never really intended to tell anyone. If he had, would he have worried? Yes, probably. Hard enough being Harry Potter’s son without such a scandal being thrown into the mix. Would anyone view him differently, were the world to know? Mabel? His teachers? His peers? Tears blurred his vision without his realizing. What of his numerous cousins, aunts, and uncles? His grandparents? They weren’t really his family, were they? Scorpius was at his side as the tears fell, Albus rubbing them harshly away. They _were_ his family, whether his mum birthed him or not. Weren’t they? Would they so easily brush him and James aside if they knew?

“You’re still Albus,” Scorpius assured him. “Severus being your dad doesn’t change that. No one who matters is going to care.”

“You don’t know that,” Albus sniffled. 

“Yeah, I do,” Scorpius said. “You can stay here as long as you need. I already told Dad you might need to. But…Well. I think you need to talk to your parents.” Albus snorted derisively and shook his head. “No, really, you should. You’re clever, Al, but you don’t know everything. There may be more to the story, things you don’t know. And we both know how much you like knowing things, Al.” Albus glared at him, the effect ruined by his sniffling. “Besides. They love you. You should let remind you of that.”

* * *

Lily was hiding in her room when Harry came home, and he didn’t have the heart to disturb her. Not until he knew what to say and do. He’d been so concerned with how James and Albus would take it, he hadn’t really considered what it would mean to Lily. 

It was hours before she crept downstairs. Harry was fixing lunch for them both. Her eyes and face were still red from crying. Harry clutched the spatula in his hand, wanting to protect her from harm. Sadly the only one harming her was Harry himself. Setting aside his spatula, holding his own anguish back with a breath, he opened his arms to her. Tall, skinny Lily threw herself into them, trembling against him.

“You still love me, right, Daddy?” 

“Of course, Lils. I’ll always love you,” Harry assured her, voice tight. “This…everything that happened is in the past. And…the past is between your mother and I. It has nothing to do with you or your brothers. You know that? I love you all, and so does your mother.”

Lily nodded. “You don’t…love me less? For being Mum’s?”

Harry’s eyes burned, but he willed the tears back. “Of course not.” What a strange thought to occur to her. Lily was the only child he shared biologically with his wife. Harry and Ginny had always been happy and, even when not, played at it well. If anything, shouldn’t he love her more for it? Unless she knew what he felt for Severus, and Harry somehow didn’t think that had come up in conversation with her mother. Regardless of who the other parent was of his children, they were still his, and he loved them all. Not one more, not one less, than the others. 

“Come on,” Harry said gruffly. “Let me finish cooking, and we can eat. Just you and me.” He swallowed. “You can ask me anything you want. No more lies.” It was a promise he hoped he could keep.

* * *

James stretched luxuriously across a bed that was not his. He watched admiringly as Teddy Lupin crossed the room, naked, to nervously shut the curtains, shutting out the afternoon sunlight. 

That morning, James’s slumber had been broken when Victoire left for work. His cousin attempted to leave as quietly as possible, but his sleep had been been fitful all night. Just the rustling of her robes and the soft clink of her jewelry brought him back to consciousness. 

“I’m sorry, Jamesy,” Victoire had whispered, brushing a maternal kiss to his head. “Teddy will make you breakfast, alright? He’s calling in at work today to stay with you. I would have done so myself, but deadlines.” She shrugged, frowning down at him with concern. Hesitating, as if second guessing her decision, deadlines be damned.

“That’s alright,” James replied sleepily. 

By then he was wide awake, heart racing as he listened to Victoire leave. He counted the minutes, to be sure she would not return for a forgotten purse or lipstick, then bounded off of the couch and into their bedroom. Teddy was still asleep in their bed, snoring loudly. James grinned. Teddy had always been a loud snorer. James was normally a deep sleeper, himself, so he’d always thought it meant they would suit each other well.

So James climbed into bed beside him, not in the area recently vacated by his cousin, but the much smaller area between Teddy and the edge of the bed. “Hm?” Teddy had grunted in his sleep, arm draping across James. James snuggled into Teddy’s chest. 

“Just don’t want to be alone,” James confessed, which, while not a lie, was also not the complete truth. He drifted off to sleep, the rumble of snores soothing his uneasy soul.

The pair slept until late morning. True to Victoire’s word, Teddy fixed breakfast and served it to James in bed. They sat cross-legged on the mattress, munching on crepes as birds sang outside the window. Teddy was an excellent cook. Harry had taught him. Teddy’s crepes were better, James thought viciously. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Teddy asked after cleaning up the dishes.

“I don’t want to think at all,” James said, bravely reaching out to tug Teddy forward by his belt loops. Teddy smiled uncertainly as he fell into bed with James.

“This isn’t -” Teddy said, but James interrupted by kissing him. He didn’t put up much of a fight after that. James wasn’t sure he had much of a chance. James was relentless in getting what he wanted; and James had wanted Teddy for a very long time. 

He had never gone all the way with a bloke before, and Teddy had never been with a bloke at all before him. Their lovemaking was clumsy, but sweet. It had been painful, but not for long. Teddy was very gentle with him. Teddy could never be anything but gentle. 

James wasn’t sure what he thought would happen, after. Maybe he’d finally tell Teddy that he loved him. Now that Teddy knew what it could be like, surely he would be more amenable. Victoire was a good witch, but she wasn’t right for Teddy. She couldn’t give Teddy the excitement and diversity James could. Everyday would be a new adventure for them. He knew it. He’d daydreamed of it for years.

This quiet, somber Teddy was not what James had envisioned. He’d imagined intimate laughter, loving caresses, sweet kisses until they were ready to make love again. A bittersweet thorn pierced James’s heart as he hugged the pillow against himself. “Come here,” James prompted.

“We shouldn’t -” Teddy whispered.

“Please,” James said loudly, willing away the tears that threatened to form. 

Reluctantly, Teddy rejoined him in bed. As he’d wanted, Teddy held him close and stroked his back soothingly. But Teddy was sad and thoughtful, while James…James could hear his brother’s accusations in his ear. _”You’re no better than Severus!”_ But it wasn’t the same. James was in love with Teddy. He and Teddy belonged together. Now that Teddy had his taste of him, he would leave Victoire. They would do things right from here on out. 

Crying after his first time had never been a part of his fantasies. He wasn’t even sure why he was crying, only that the bundle of emotions he’d been repressing were finally unfurling within him. Teddy rocked him through them all.

Was it any wonder James loved him?


	5. Heart Strings Tear and Tangle

They always visited on the same day at the same time: Sundays at noon. Every week, disturbing his peace. Yet Severus was not surprised when noon came and went with no knock at the door, no Floo roaring to life, no crack of Apparition. He fixed lunch in the silence, a simple sandwich. No, Severus was not surprised. But he was disappointed.

It had been a long time since they’d missed a Sunday, but they always sent their apologies and explanations, with promises to see him again as soon as they could. Always he would roll his eyes at the need to reassure him, denying the comfort it brought him. They wanted to see him. They would come again. They would come as soon as they could. And as was his specialty, he denied to himself the pleasure he took from their company. 

Visitors were few and far between, other than the Potters. Longbottom dropped by from time to time with ingredients he traded for the occasional potion, as needed. When he had a new invention he would bring it by for Severus to determine its usefulness in potions. Now and then Longbottom would bring his wife, and they would discuss their various projects. Hannah’s background in medicine gave her insight her husband lacked into the particulars of Severus’s trials. Even rarer he saw the Minister herself; Hermione was a busy woman, but they maintained frequent correspondence. Anyone who didn’t know any better might call it friendship. Severus viewed it as two intellectuals with a minimal pool of individuals to share a decent conversation with. 

Only the Potters could he count on for frequent socialization. Severus had spent much of his life alone, relying only on himself. It would be Harry bloody Potter that would destroy his routines, his defenses, and his appreciation of solitude. It was wrong for a Sunday to be so still and silent. Severus watched the clock, at the hands ticking by, putting off his work on the off chance they came. Not, of course, for their sake - it would be a terrible hassle to stop his proceedings to greet them. 

Sundays were all he had anymore. Harry’s regular visits stopped over five years ago when he decided they could no longer continue their entanglement. Now he clung to the snippets he received when the children were not clamoring for his attention, given only the crumbs of Harry’s life. Ginevra might have claimed the majority of him, but Severus had at least staked his claim on some piece of Harry. It had not been enough then, and now he felt starved for it. For his touch. For a smile, even. Damn the boy to hell for for the mess he’d made of Severus and his life. On days such as this, Severus loathed him as passionately as he loved him.

Yet, it was not only Harry he missed. It was Jim’s mischievous grin, contrasting so sharply against the tenderness he often displayed. The world was a joke to his eldest, but he also loved with his entire heart. Then there was Albus, mind always whirring with possibilities, cleverly noting the most inconsequential of details - just as sneaky as his siblings, but more thoughtful in his every move, every word. 

Even Lily, sweet Lily, with all of her father’s heart and courage. She was not his flesh and blood, but he could not help but spare a piece of his heart for her radiance. Her nose wrinkled when she smiled, like her namesake; and she laughed as boisterous and free as her father; for all that she shared with her mother, Severus could not hate her. Not anymore.

Ginny’s pregnancy with her only child had tormented Severus. At times he was sure he had never hated anyone so venomously as he hated her and her spawn. Never had he hated Harry so much, even in his schooldays. His skin crawled at the thought of the new life they’d created, the one tether to Harry that only Severus had possessed before now. 

When they brought the boys to visit, he could see the soft adoration in his lover’s expression, the radiant glow of the mother-to-be. Young boys roughhousing. Harry holding Ginevra’s hand. Children squalling. Ginny’s stomach swollen with new life, with a piece of his Harry. Harry, who was his. Harry, who gazed at her with free affection. Severus had bitten back the words he wanted to spew, commanding them to leave, only because he knew it might stop the visits Harry paid him on his own. 

And Severus treasured having Harry all to himself. 

Towards the end of Ginny’s pregnancy, even that had become unbearable. 

Distinctly, Severus remembered the day Harry stepped through his Floo with a nervous smile. “Baby shower,” he said by way of explanation. “Fleur’s kicked me out. Do you mind company?”

“Is Ronald not available to entertain you?” Severus had snarled. 

Harry’s shoulders slumped. “I wanted to see you.”

Severus grit his teeth against the warmth in his middle. Pathetic, how easily swayed he was. Harry was only here because his _wife_ was distracted. “You should leave.”

“Why?” Harry demanded. “What is wrong with you lately? Between Ginny’s mood swings and your crankiness, I’m going insane!” Severus snorted and headed towards the kitchen, only Harry ran in front of him before he could. “Did I do something? You’ve been an arse for months now!”

Severus laughed bitterly. “You don’t know why? After all this time?”

Harry’s brows scrunched together. “No. I can’t read your mind, Sev.”

“If you weren’t so clueless, perhaps you would have seen the signs,” Severus spat, retaliating against the surge of tenderness at the use of the nickname. “If you had more than half a brain in your thick skull you could probably pinpoint the very moment this began. Maybe you would have realized the moment your ‘good news’ was announced that I was not nearly so glad for the perfect couple as every other imbecile.”

Harry’s expression turned shocked. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Severus snorted. “ _Oh_! Your eloquence is as charming as ever. How does one survive as an Auror with such outstanding obliviousness? It should have been clear that I would not celebrate the man I love having a child with someone else!”

Harry blinked owlishly. “You’re in love with me?”

“You _know_ that I am,” Severus accused, seething as he loomed over the shorter wizard. “You know it, and you wield the knowledge against me every time you come crawling here when she doesn’t have the time for you.”

“That’s not why I come,” Harry denied vehemently. “I love you, too, you great git!”

“Don’t,” Severus growled. “Get out.”

“I can’t.”

“ _Leave_!”

Harry grabbed his arms to stop him turning away, emerald eyes pleading with him, melting his resolve. He had always been a fool for those eyes. Harry’s hands moved up to his face and he grabbed the man’s shoulders in turn, wishing he could shove him away. This was the time to walk away, clinging to what remained of his heart and his pride. The hero belonged with his lovely wife and his picture-perfect family. He needed to leave Severus well enough alone. 

“I love you,” the boy swore, the truth of the words reflected in his determined gaze, etched deeply into every syllable he spoke. “I hate hurting you. I hate it so much. I’m hurting you, I’m hurting her…” He swallowed. “I hate myself for it. I do. But I love you too much to stop. I can’t stay away. I can’t let you go. Please understand. You have to believe me. Don’t make me go. Don’t push me away. I couldn’t bear it.”

For all he’d sworn of Harry’s ignorance, he had at least seen that much in Severus’s face, his posture. Severus swallowed the words he wanted to say, that, if he had his way, Harry would never leave him again. He had confessed more than enough for one day, without confessing to his depraved need of the other wizard. Never before had Severus craved the touch of another man, yet here he was, obsessed with the little fool, spitting image of his worst nemesis. Fate was a cruel mistress. 

Rather than humiliate himself further, he kissed Harry deeply, pulling him close. Instead he tempted the truth from his lover’s lips, with every touch as he undressed him, only bending him over the back couch once he’d begged for it. Was it guilt or desperation that drove Harry, who had only weeks before sworn they could never resume their affair. The reasons didn’t matter. He wasn’t a foolish man. Whatever he was offered, he would take and treasure every moment of it. He luxuriated in taking Harry, triumphant in every keen and cry from his lover, and when he at last released himself within Harry, he lamented that his seed would never find purchase in Harry’s body. Severus had brewed the contraceptive himself. 

It was not another child he wanted, but another claim staked on Harry.

Harry returned to him frequently after that, offering his love while Severus vindictively withheld his own. He had a wife at home to offer him such platitudes. It was that wife who sat heavily pregnant at home caring for two toddlers while Harry moaned wantonly beneath Severus’s thorough ministrations. He was sure to send the boy back into her loving arms completely wrecked. Severus clung to this smugness as he lay in his lonely bed.

By the time Lily was born, Severus hated her less. Still he imagined snatching the newborn from her mother’s arms to throw her into the nearest wall. He was able to refrain from such.

Love was a gradual thing, born naturally over Sunday visits with her brothers. Severus watched her grow. As he was supposedly godfather to James and Albus, they also named him godfather to Lily. She always offered him smiles and hugs. Little Lily would bring him drawings, sing him songs, and always complimented the simple meals he served. Her heart was as generous and loving as her father’s, her defiance and loyalty as fierce as her mother’s.

She was difficult to hate, was Lily Luna Potter.

A knock on the door tore Severus from his reflections. His heart lifted, though he knew they rarely used the front door. They had an open invitation to his Floo system. Knowing this, he still rushed to the door, masking his emotions as he cracked it open.

“Good afternoon, Severus,” Hannah Longbottom said, tone a touch too cheery even for her. Beside her stood her husband, wearing a sad smile. Hannah lifted a basket draped over her arm. “We brought lunch, if you don’t mind the company.”

Hannah waited as Severus eyed her husband. This was not the way of the Longbottoms, to drop by for purely social reasons. No, they knew. Severus gritted his teeth. The blasted boy had told them. The question was, were they here due to their own concerns, or due to Harry’s? 

Pride demanded he slam the door in their faces. Still, there was kindness in those guileless eyes. Regardless of his own nastiness in their formative years, they maintained cordiality at every visit. Despite all he had done to earn the hatred of everyone he knew, they stood here, pitying him. 

Loneliness wrestled with his pride as he gave a sharp nod. “Very well.”

In the dining room, Hannah unpacked lunch. Sandwiches, though much more satisfying than what he had been making, with sides of crisps and fruit. Severus offered beverages, more politely than he might during the average visit. Silently they settled around to eat.

“Potter sent you, then?” Severus finally asked.

“He said you might be wanting company today,” Hannah said cautiously. 

“They’re rather busy,” Neville added, less cautiously. Hannah shot him a look, but Neville had eyes only for Severus. He never spoke his judgments outright, but he never hid them. Neville was much more direct with Harry, he knew, having heard such from his lover. Neville had warned Harry from the start not to follow along with Severus’s wishes. 

If only Harry had listened.

“Busy mending what ‘my’ lies broke?” Severus snarled.

Hannah shot her husband a look. Neville had opened his mouth to respond, but closed it when he saw her. Hannah turned a smile to Severus. “You’re not the only one to blame. But we’re not here to blame anyone.” Beneath the table, she kicked her husband’s ankle. Severus should not be so amused by that. “You’re agitated because you miss them. I understand. I’m sure they’ll come around eventually.”

Severus took a bite of his sandwich, glancing away to avoid answering. He did miss them, but he would not stoop to admitting so before the Longbottoms. 

“They’re still your family,” Neville sighed.

“They’re also Potters,” Hannah added. “They won’t leave you behind, Severus. Give them time.” 

Still, Severus said nothing. Slowly he chewed his food while the Longbottoms exchanged wordless communication. When Hannah mentioned one of Neville’s crossbreeds might be useful for his experiments, Severus latched onto the conversation. He only made a few snide remarks about Neville’s last experiment nearly killing him. Loathe was he to admit how Hannah’s reassurance eased him. The least he could do was tone down his snark.

* * *

For a week the boys had been gone, Albus staying with the Malfoys while James hid away in the flat Teddy and Victoire shared. Ginny didn’t blame them needing time and space. Still, home was so quiet without them there. Home was tense, as she barely spoke to her husband. Only Lily timidly carried conversations between the two. Harry worked later and later, and Ginny wished she could think he was sneaking off to his lover, if only to fuel the anger that was so overtaken by sorrow. Her beautiful life was crumbling around her. 

And her sons? Who knew if they even loved her still, knowing the truth. 

Ginny would soon find out, at least regarding one. It was Sunday, and no word had been mentioned of visiting Snape. Ginny was pleased by this. Harry had taken Lily to visit Ron’s family. Ginny declined to join them due to the owl she’d received while Harry fixed breakfast. 

_Mum. Meet me at Malfoy Manor this afternoon? - Al._

The short note, scribbled in Albus’s atrocious handwriting, was rolled neatly in her pocket as she arrived by Apparition outside of the front door. Neatly she knocked, standing tall as Draco Malfoy let her in. “Good afternoon,” he greeted politely. “This way. You’ll have privacy in the drawing room.”

Privacy. Ginny wondered just how private the conversation needed to be. Wondered how much Draco Malfoy knew now, about her sham of a marriage. Albus had been here a full week; plenty of time to spread his story. None of the papers had broken the news yet, but that didn’t mean no one knew. 

Albus was sitting quite still in a sleek gray armchair. His chin was propped up on his knuckles, free hand tracing nonsensical designs in midair. He didn’t look up as the adults entered the room, but nodded when Draco informed them he would be in his office, should they need anything.

“Thank you,” Ginny said belatedly, just before the door shut. Perhaps it was bad manners, but as soon as it closed she cast a Silencing Charm on the room. 

“They wouldn’t listen in,” Albus commented, green eyes finally flicking up to her. 

“Better to be safe,” Ginny stated. “Unless they already know?”

Albus shrugged. “I told Scorp. He won’t tell anyone, though. I trust him.”

Her secret in the hands of a sixteen year old boy. Ginny breathed deeply to remain calm and steady. There was no helping it now. Scorpius Malfoy knew. They would deal with it. Whatever happened now they would deal with.

Unsure of herself, Ginny drew deeper into the room and settled herself on the chaise nearest her son. Hands folded in her lap as she looked around the expansive space. For the last week she’d wanted nothing more than to see her son again, but now that she was here she didn’t know how to behave. Silly. She was still his mother, whatever he thought. This reminder gave her strength as she turned to face him. He was watching her, those green orbs so reminiscent of Harry, but it was the probing nature of him that spoke of his other father. 

“Why did you stay?” Albus asked.

“Well,” Ginny breathed, crossing her legs and sitting forward. She had not been prepared to have this conversation with anyone. She should have expected this. Of course Albus would want to know every nitty gritty detail, however painful for either of them. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Your father got pregnant with James when we were separated. I didn’t imagine he would…cheat…when we reconciled. I agreed to be a mother to James because I loved your father; it didn’t matter that he wasn’t mine. I wanted a family, anyway. What did it matter how motherhood came to me?”

She didn’t mention the screaming and crying when Harry’s pregnancy was confirmed. The letter from Severus Snape, scolding Harry for ingesting an experimental potion by accident. Swearing the Longbottoms to secrecy as they used Hannah’s mediwizardry skills to monitor the pregnancy. It had hurt, deeply. It had been confusing. Harry had never shown an inclination towards men before, let alone such an old and ugly bat. One who had made their lives hell for years. Ginny had been willing to move on, for the sake of her marriage, for the sake of the innocent child Snape scorned. 

“James was about a year old when Harry became pregnant with you,” Ginny continued, wishing away the trembling of her voice, wishing her nerves weren’t so frayed. “A drunken mistake, your father said, and he swore it would never happen again. I took James and stayed with my parents for a week.” Her parents, together for four decades by that time, urged her to fight for her marriage. They didn’t know the truth. Ginny had been too ashamed to tell them. 

Besides, she loved Harry. She loved her little family. When he made his promises, she chose to believe him. “I gave him a second chance. I agreed to fake another pregnancy, to pass you off as mine. I…suspected their affair resumed while Harry was pregnant, but…I never had proof.” Harry spent so much time with Severus, but he was the child’s father. It was natural to be drawn to him, wasn’t it? 

In the end, it was Ginny he always came back to.

“Maybe I…turned a blind eye,” Ginny admitted. “I didn’t want to believe it, so I refused to. What could I do? I was a mother and a wife. I loved Harry. I loved you and your brother. I wasn’t going to risk the life we worked so hard for. I wasn’t going to lose everything I had because of Severus Snape.” She bit her tongue. That was Albus’s father, she was naming with such vitriol. “So we carried on. After Lily was born, though, I…It became too obvious to ignore.”

Harry had come home late one night. As she curled up next to him, she inhaled the unmistakable scent of potion fumes, herbs, and that bitter musk Severus sprayed to cover the rest. Harry drifted right to sleep while Ginny lay beside him, head swimming with visions of the pair entwined, of all the ways that scent could be so thick on her husband. She hated him at that moment. She could have killed him. 

“We fought. I took you and your siblings and left time and again, but we always came back. You always asked for your dad. And I missed him, too.” Ginny couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. She was embarrassed. How pathetic to love a man so much, to be so willing to put up with so much. 

“And you were embarrassed to leave,” Albus guessed shrewdly. He tapped his lip thoughtfully. “Didn’t want to admit to failure. Didn’t want to admit your husband was cheating on you with a man, let alone which man.”

“I stayed because I love you,” Ginny snapped. Albus was too smart for his own good. However right he was, those were not her primary reasons. The only reasons that mattered were her children. 

Albus shrugged. His eyes flicked from side to side, chewing his lower lip as he thought. Ginny waited uneasily. She felt exposed. Her younger son had always seen so much more than anyone wanted. It was no wonder he’d found them out.

“Have you ever seen them?” Albus asked curiously. 

Ginny blanched as she shook her head. Thankfully she had never actually seen anything. Touches that lingered too long, gazes that spoke too much, but nothing graphic. The worst she’d been witness to was hearing Harry groan the man’s name in the shower. These past five, almost six years, she couldn’t begrudge him that, however much it hurt. He was at last faithful to her. She could tell. Harry didn’t dare to visit Snape alone, ever. At least, not until recently. Still, Ginny could see the strain of it in her husband and was satisfied. 

“Teddy saw them,” Albus commented. “When he was twelve.”

“He saw?” Ginny demanded furiously. Teddy had always been like a son to them. Andromeda had allowed free access to their godson his whole life. The maternal beast within her roared at the idea of an innocent child walking in on two careless adults. “No,” she breathed, the horror of what it meant sinking deeper still. Teddy knew? If not the whole of it, then part of it. But that was over a decade ago. 

“Yes, Severus was -”

“I don’t need to know the details!” Ginny nearly asked for the details, to know how precisely her godson had stumbled upon them, but it was history and had no bearing on the here and now. 

Albus grimaced apologetically. 

“He never said anything?” Ginny asked, though she already knew.

“No,” Albus said. “I guess he wanted to forget about it. Maybe he wanted to protect you.”

“Maybe,” Ginny agreed. Non-confrontational Teddy would want no part in that. His peace-loving heart wouldn’t want to disrupt the seemingly happy family. It was easy for him to push aside any unpleasantness No, Teddy wouldn’t breathe a word. It hurt her heart to consider how well his sweet nature benefited them.

“Will you and Dad stay together, even now?” Albus asked.

“Of course,” Ginny replied. It would take time for them to heal, but she had not come this far to give up now. She and Harry had weathered worse storms. 

Albus frowned. “You shouldn’t.” Ginny’s surprised look deepened his frown. “Mum, you should have dumped him ages ago! You can do better!”

“I love him,” Ginny said. At Albus’s incredulous look, Ginny continued. “You don’t understand. We all struggled, after the war. It affected us all differently. If your father formed this…unhealthy attachment to Snape…” Veering off into dangerous territory again; whatever Ginny felt towards Snape, she would not disparage him to his children. “We’ve dealt with it, Albus. Your father and I care deeply about this family and the life we’ve built. We’ve both put in the effort to make it work. And it’s finally working, Albus! It’s ended.” She sighed. “You’ve only just learned it.”

“I found out when I was nine,” Albus corrected. “I found letters and photos in Severus’s attic. And then ours.”

“Right,” Ginny said, thrown off course momentarily. The upheaval was so recent, she’d forgotten that detail. “Still, you’ve never known the whole story. You don’t understand. It’s all fresh for you and your siblings. But it’s over now. They’re over.”

Albus chewed the inside of his cheeks as he considered something. Ginny wanted to fuss him to stop, before he hurt himself, but held back. “It’s not over,” Albus said. 

Ice dropped into Ginny’s stomach. She could have sworn Harry was truthful, confident she would know if the affair resumed. 

“Not that,” Albus quickly amended. “Only…they’re in love, Mum. You can see that. It’s obvious.”

“Your father might care for Snape, but Snape doesn’t know what love is,” Ginny denied. So much for holding back regarding Snape. Albus only looked at her sympathetically. 

“Even if that’s so,” Albus said. “As long as there are feelings there, it will never be over.”

“I am not discussing this with you, Al,” Ginny stated stiffly. 

Albus looked like he wanted to argue, but a firm look from his mother cowed him and he slumped down in his seat. 

“I love you, Albus,” Ginny went on gently. “I am your mother. I always have been, and I always will be, whatever you think about it.”

“I know,” Albus said sadly, quivering of his jaw betraying his emotions. “I love you, too.”

Ginny sighed. “You can stay here a few more days, if you need, but you need to come home soon. You can’t hide forever. Or take advantage of the Malfoys’s hospitality.” 

Albus nodded. “Wednesday?”

“That’s fine. Be home in time for dinner,” Ginny said as she stood. Albus stood, as well, and awkwardly approached her. The uncertainty of him broke her heart and Ginny held back tears as she opened her arms to him. Albus shuffled into them, hugging her tightly as he hadn’t since he was a boy.

“Bye, Mum,” Albus said. “And…thanks.”

As she withdrew her Silencing Charm and left the room, her son’s words whispered repeatedly in her ear. _”As long as there are feelings there, it will never be over.”_

It was those words that drew Ginny back to every Sunday visit with Severus while the children were at school. Easier to ignore what existed between them when the children were around. Easier to stomach the visits to begin with when the children were an excuse. Harry liked to say they visited to keep the habit, but Ginny knew better. Difficult to begrudge him weekly visits when he otherwise stayed clear of the man, these past few years.

More often than not the two men bickered. _”Like an old married couple,”_ some might say. The phrasing made her queasy, though it occurred to her occasionally. It wasn’t all bad, though. They spoke of the children at length, a topic Ginny was happy to offer input on. It put Severus on edge, she knew, and she liked that. They spoke of work. Proper friendly chit chat. At times the men played chess or cards while Ginny flipped through a magazine. Other times they would walk through the back garden while Ginny watched from the kitchen window.

Most bizarrely, she and Severus would maintain civility while Harry fixed them lunch. Work, the news, idle words to fill the air. Ginny bore it easier these last years, because she knew Harry was not sharing Severus’s bed. She could read it on them both. Could cut the tension with a knife. Oh, they wanted each other, but Harry held himself back. Harry had chosen her, at last, and Severus loathed her for it. Ginny basked in it. His forced civility was icing on the cake. Behaving himself, for Harry’s sake.

Ginny liked to forget that she was doing the same. 

Now she looked back on those Sundays dizzily. The ties between the men were invisible, but a heavy presence in any room they shared. Ginny’s attendance was the only barrier keeping them apart. She let herself be dragged to that man’s house every week to babysit her husband. The two men could not be trusted alone with one another. 

Could not be trusted alone because the war had traumatized her husband into loving a tormented criminal. Could not be trusted alone because Severus’s obsession for Lily Evans had morphed itself into lust for her son. Sick of them both to surrender to their confused desires.

Would this be the rest of her life? Carrying on this charade, deigning to play nice with the man who still held her husband on a leash? The man who had touched her husband, kissed and licked her husband, put his greasy prick inside of her husband. There she sat, dutiful wife, thinking she had the upper hand when all she really had was a part in their twisted game. Would she be eighty, ninety, a hundred years old watching as they tortured each other with their proximity? Would she sit on that couch and smile smugly because she got to bring Harry home with her? 

_”As long as there are feelings there, it will never be over.”_

“Mrs. Potter?”

Ginny’s hand was on the doorknob leading out of the manor. She didn’t remember the walk here. Turning, she found Draco Malfoy standing tall and dignified, a curious twitch in his cheek. 

“Mr. Malfoy,” she said, bemused.

Draco cleared his throat. “Our sons are close. You may call me Draco.”

“Ginny, then.”

Draco nodded. “I know Albus is having a difficult time. I don’t know what transpired. I won’t pry. I did, however, want you to know that Albus is always welcome here.” A clear, pointed cough here. “You and your family would be welcome, as well, should you have need of it.”

“Oh,” Ginny said. “That is…kind of you, Malfoy. Draco, that is.”

Again, the man nodded, turning on his heel. Ginny watched him head for a nearby room, thoughts buzzing around her skull. Thinking clearly was a task she struggled with, but managed to call out. “Draco!” He paused. “Thank you, for hosting Albus all this time. He’ll be expected back home Wednesday night for dinner, if you don’t mind holding him accountable? Just in case?”

“Certainly,” Draco agreed. 

Albus’s words continued to bounce around her head as she stepped outside. Rather than Disapparate, she walked down the sidewalk, hoping the fresh air and noisy street would clear her mind.

* * *

“Is everything alright, Harry?” Ron asked.

They were in the kitchen. Harry was pouring himself a drink, surprised to find Ron had followed him. 

Out in the living room, Lily and Hugo were playing Exploding Snap while Hermione and Rose discussed a news article about St. Mungo’s. Harry hadn’t paid much mind to the company around him, but he had heard the name Esther Unger mentioned. Severus had not been mentioned alongside her. It didn’t matter what Esther had to say about St. Mungo’s affairs, not to Harry who had so much else to worry about. 

All during this visit, he’d been watching Lily. Every time she leaned close to whisper something to Hugo, he wondered if his daughter was spilling the beans. He hadn’t had the heart to ask any of his children to lie for him. Bad enough he, Ginny, and Severus had lied _to_ them. 

“Yeah. Sorry, mate. Just been busy,” Harry laughed. 

“Right,” Ron said, not believing a word. That was the trouble with offering your go-to excuse to your brother-in-law slash coworker. Ron knew better than anyone how busy Harry was, professionally and personally. “You know Hermione and I are here, whatever you need.” Hesitation. “And if you and Gin are struggling again…even if you won’t tell me, talk to ‘Mione. She’s good for that.”

“I know,” Harry said guiltily. They were his family, once closest confidants, and even they didn’t know his darkest secrets. They wouldn’t understand, even without the relation to his wife. In ways, it had distanced him from his dearest friends, and bound him all the tighter to Ginny. Whatever happened between them, they were all each other had. 

Hermione and Ron watched him with disappointment as he and Lily left. Hermione hugged him close and reminded him that her office was always available to him. Rose looked between the adults suspiciously, too quick for her own good. Hugo noticed nothing, waving cheerily from the window as they headed to the car. 

“Ice cream, Lils?” Harry pumped as much brightness into his voice as he could muster. It had been too long since they’d had proper father-daughter time.

Lily managed a small smile. “I didn’t say anything, Daddy.”

Harry sighed. “Thank you.”

Lily shrugged. “It’s no one else’s business.” Bright brown eyes peered uncertainly at him. “Uncle Ron would kill you.”

“Yep.”

“But…couldn’t you talk to Aunt Hermione?” Lily asked. “You…you don’t talk to anyone?”

“I talk to your mother, as needed,” Harry said uncomfortably, backing out of the driveway. Who else could he talk to? Neville knew, but it was an embarrassing subject. Bad enough he knew without Harry confiding in him any further than that. Besides, Neville had made his thoughts on Harry’s activities very clear. 

“That’s…sad,” Lily said. “Mum talks to her therapist, doesn’t she? Does her therapist know?”

“Some.” 

Lily said nothing for a while. Harry drove in silence, still deciding whether to find a nearby ice cream parlor or not. Only when he reached out to turn on the radio did she speak again.

“Do you love Uncle Severus?”

Harry rubbed his temple. “That’s not…We don’t need to get into that.”

“I want to know,” Lily said irritably. “I deserve to know, don’t I?” Harry opened his mouth to argue when Lily barked out, “Do you love him, Daddy? Do you?”

The options were weighed in his mind as he made a left turn. They definitely needed ice cream. And he needed a drink. This was not a conversation he needed to have with his daughter, of all people. There were things the children deserved to know, sure, but was this one of them? They were too young, and this was too complicated. How could he explain what he felt for Severus, when he barely grasped it himself? How could he describe the love he had for Severus versus the love he had for Ginny, both so disparate, yet both so powerful. Both his lover and wife had their ties in him, embedded so deeply, he couldn’t imagine life without either of them. 

That was part of the problem.

“Yes,” he whispered, before he fully decided to speak. 

Lily nodded as she looked fixedly out of the window. Harry hoped she wasn’t crying. He couldn’t take making his little girl cry. 

“Why?” she asked after a few minutes, voice shaky. 

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “Love doesn’t always make sense.”

“Yeah,” Lily agreed. “I’m so angry with him, and I’m so angry with you. But I still love you, both of you.”

Harry laughed with relief. “Be as angry as you need to be, Lily. I’m pretty mad at me, too.” 

“I don’t want to be angry,” Lily continued as Harry pulled up in front of the shop. “I just want to be happy again. I want to hug you and laugh with you. I want to visit Uncle Severus. That’s the stupid part. I should hate you both.”

Strange to be so glad over her inclusion of Severus. Surprising that she didn’t hate the man. Harry knew the man cared for his daughter. The child that was not his, and he managed to love her anyway. It made Harry love him even more. That Lily still cared for her godfather, as well, meant more to him than he could say.

He didn’t like to linger on the ‘why’.

“It might be easier if you did,” Harry agreed. “But I’m glad that you don’t.”

“Well, I’m still mad at you,” Lily grumbled, but there was no heat to the words. She sat tall in her seat, resignation deep in her lovely features. She never looked more like her mother than in that moment, bearing his betrayal with sorrowful strength. All of his wife’s fighting spirit faltered before him. Harry hated himself for being the one thing Ginny couldn’t fight against, but equally grateful that it kept her with him. He was a selfish man, but he had learned that a long time ago. Now his daughter was doomed to her mother’s fate, loving him whether he deserved it or not. One more reason to hate himself, then. “I thought better of you, Daddy.” 

“I know,” Harry agreed, swallowing the lump in his throat. “So did I, once.”

Lily frowned into her lap, eventually shooting a dirty glare to the shop, as if it were responsible for all of her woes. “I don’t think I want ice cream, Daddy.”

“Right. Silly of me.”

“Can we just drive around for a while?”

“Sure, Lils.”

No more words were said. Lily fiddled with the radio, staring out of the window once her selection was made. The loud, intense music worked its healing magic as Harry drove aimlessly.

* * *

All day, Victoire periodically checked the Potter household, reporting back when it was finally empty. Moving quickly, James Apparated home. With Victoire’s help, they spelled all of his belongings into a trunk, shrinking them as they went. Victoire’s spells were neat, folding prim and proper, efficiently settling themselves at the bottom of the trunk. James’s spells shot shoes and knick-knacks diving haphazardly into the trunk at times clashing with Victoire’s work. James could have sworn he heard his hairbrush gasp with offense when his gobstone set hurtled rudely into it. 

“You must be firm,” Victoire suggested, giving a little wiggling jab at a set of books. They obediently rose and waited patiently for his boots to fly by. 

“I just want to be gone,” James said. 

His week with Teddy and Victoire had not been much better than remaining under his parents’ roof. Teddy was working more hours, rarely home alone with James. James had the feeling it was intentional. For days he hoped Teddy only needed time to sort his feelings. Now he was sure Teddy was hiding from them. It killed him to watch Victoire rush into his arms when he came home, when they disappeared into their bedroom at night. 

Victoire’s maternal gestures were unbearable. She fixed him food. She gave him hugs. She fussed him to clean up after himself, to perfect his spells, to settle on a team once and for all. Victoire was loving, more loving than he deserved. James couldn’t stand how perfect she was.

“They are your family,” Victoire said. “You should leave them a note, if you won’t speak to them.”

“No. They’ll get the message clear enough,” James argued. 

Yesterday he’d seen an ad for a flat not far from Teddy and Victoire’s. Being Harry Potter’s son came in handy now and then. The process had gone very quickly once that name was dropped. He’d signed the lease this morning. His new home was waiting for him. At last, he’d have peace. Far from the people who did nothing but break his heart. 

“James, is that you?”

“Damn it,” James cursed as Ginny walked into his room. Her bright face dimmed when she took in his empty room and trunk Victoire was closing. 

“Aunt Ginny,” Victoire said warmly, stepping forward to give her a hug. James darted for his trunk and laid his hand on it, catching only a glimpse of his mother’s agonized face as he Disapparated.


	6. Love for All Manner of Brutes

Regardless of what the Longbottoms knew of her life, Ginny rarely confided in them. After her Monday therapy session, however, Ginny was thoroughly wrung out. She could take no comfort in the presence of her husband anymore. Who else did she have to turn to, but the only other people who knew? Even Marietta, her stalwart counselor, was not entrusted with every detail. Ginny took comfort in this as the woman’s parting words echoed in her ears.

_”Remember, Ginny, you don’t have to stay. Consider whether you might benefit from time on your own.”_

It was not the first time Marietta had suggested this, nor would it be the last, Ginny was sure. Ginny fumed over tea while Hannah listened patiently. “I spend most of the hour crying over James leaving, and she turns it back around to me abandoning my family again!”

“It wouldn’t be abandoning your family,” Hannah said gently. “It wouldn’t even be abandoning your marriage, just yet. A break is temporary.”

“It’s giving up,” Ginny argued stubbornly.

“It’s not,” Hannah continued, still calm. Ginny wanted to shatter that peace. It wasn’t fair that anyone could be so untroubled. “Marietta was right. You’ll care for others better when you care for yourself.”

“I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“James is gone,” Hannah reminded her. Ginny glowered and set her cup down forcefully. “And face it, Ginny, whatever you think you’ve accomplished, you and Harry have never had a healthy marriage.” Ginny sputtered, immediately arguing, but Hannah continued in a neutral tone until Ginny gave up to listen. “You were always fighting. You never dealt with any of your issues as a couple. You stayed together, whatever happened, which is admirable. But you never dealt with any of it. When Harry told you he was pregnant, you stayed - it didn’t matter that it wasn’t the result of cheating, the first time. You agreed to be mother his child without really taking the time to consider it. You never really discussed his relationship with Severus. 

“And when he did cheat, you stayed. You stayed time and again. And I’d fault you less if you stayed because of improvement; if you stayed because the two of you worked through whatever was wrong; if you stayed because you could at least be honest with yourselves. You stayed because you refuse to give Harry up. You stayed because you are hardheaded. You never stayed for the right reasons.

“And now, even though Harry’s finally stopped cheating, it’s still not enough. You never gave yourselves time to heal. Individually, or together. Too much time has passed, too much has happened.” Hannah reached across the table to grasp Ginny’s hand. Ginny felt the fight fall away from her at the touch. “You are a good wife, Ginny. And a good mother. Taking some time apart will not change that.”

Unsure of what to say, Ginny took another sip of her tea and a bite of her biscuit. A hollow ringing sounded in her ears. 

“It’s your life,” Hannah sighed. “I can’t force your hand, and neither can Marietta. But I care about you, Ginny. I want you to do what’s best for you. At the end of the day, what’s best for you _is_ what’s best for your family.”

* * *

Once, Snape told her daughter, “Consider what is in your best interest, Lily.”

“That’s selfish.”

“No, girl. That is self-respect.” 

“But Jamesy and Alby…”

“Are looking after their own interests. Who is looking after yours?”

“You do, Uncle Sev’rus.” 

The pair spoke quietly from the kitchen. Lily sat on the counter, little legs swinging as Snape arranged a plate of biscuits for his guests. Harry leaned against the arm of the couch, smiling fondly as he watched them. Ginny wanted to snatch her daughter from the counter and flee with her. She wanted to grab her husband by the hair and drag him away. She wanted to gather her family close and break whatever damned spell Severus Snape had over them. 

It was a long moment before Severus responded, voice strained. “I certainly do my best, Lily.”

Ginny calmly sipped her tea as her inner voice screamed and raged.

* * *

“Taking everyone else out of the equation…no husband, no children. No mom or dad. No brothers. No friends. No fan club. What is the best course of action for you?” Marietta once asked. 

Ginny sat stiffly in her seat, glaring disdainfully at her counselor. “Without my family, my life would be different. I’d have a very different set of problems, wouldn’t I?”

Marietta sighed. “What are you doing here if you refuse to work with me?”

“I’m looking for a solution that is not ‘leave your family’!”

“The solution you want is to bend Harry - sorry ‘your husband’ - into obedience by sheer force of will,” Marietta replied, tone belying none of her agitation. “You don’t want to drug him or curse him or use any magical means to force his hand. You don’t want to leave. You want to stomp your foot and command his fidelity and have it be so. You’ve been stomping for years, Ginny. When are you going to realize it isn’t working?”

Ginny fumed in silence. The scratch of Marietta’s quill against parchment scratched against her raw nerves. Every week for ten years. First recovering from the war to marital woes. Ginny couldn’t even reveal the worst of it to Marietta, regardless of any patient confidentiality promises. Even if she trusted Marietta to never breathe a word, how would she even explain her husband’s pregnancy or their decision to lie to the world? 

“Could I learn to live with it?” she eventually whispered, blinking tears from her eyes. “Could I learn to be okay with him screwing _that man_.” 

The ‘no’ was loud in Marietta’s tight expression, but the words she spoke were, “Only you can answer that. We can develop a plan now…”

Ginny nodded as Marietta explained her options, shushing the voice inside ranting how she could never be okay with any of this. How could she just accept her husband crawling into Snape’s bed like some whore? How could she gladly welcome him back into her arms, knowing where he had been, what he had been doing? How could she give him affection when he was filthy? How could she smile and laugh as if it were okay? 

The very idea of it was a blow to her pride. Surprising to her she still had any pride left.

* * *

“What did you wish for, Mum?” Albus asked every year on her birthday.

Candles blown out on the tall, wobbly cake her mother made, Ginny offered her public grin to her surrounding family. Only Harry saw it for what it was. The look he gave her was concerned, but he smiled as well and offered her hand a squeeze. 

Every year she wished for the same thing. Foolish at her age to still wish for anything so badly. Every year she closed her eyes, willing with all of her might that her husband could turn away from Snape. More than that, stop desiring him altogether. Stop loving him. Wishing with her whole heart that he would love her and only her, the way he was supposed to. 

“It’s a secret!” she always responded. Always pumping enough teasing and high spirits in her tone to disguise any bitter emotions threatening to drag her down. Difficult to be upbeat and happy when she reminded herself of bitter truths. 

At least Harry always stayed with her for her birthday. They never invited Snape. And if her birthday fell on a Sunday, they didn’t even visit. For her birthday, Harry was all hers. It was her he held close, her hair he kissed, her hand he held. This day, of all days, she didn’t worry about where he was or what he was doing. 

Her upcoming birthday would make six years since her wish came true, at least in part. Ginny was glad to take what she could get.

* * *

“Do you have any regrets, Mrs. Potter?” a reporter once asked. 

Regarding her career, specifically, but it was not Quidditch Ginny’s mind jumped to. She thought instead of every point in life she could have turned back. Ending her marriage when she first learned Harry had cheated. Ending her marriage when she first learned Harry was pregnant. Ending her marriage when they first separated, rather than reconciling. Ending their volatile relationship before they ever made it to the altar. 

If only she had never met Harry Potter at all.

But she thought of Lily, who would never have been born. Thought of her daughter’s wild, carefree spirit as she danced around the house. Thought of her sharp focus when arguing with her brothers or sneaking out onto a broom. Lily’s big, white smile. Lily always stealing the first swipe of icing on any cake. 

She thought of Albus, who she never would have met. Thought of her son’s cool, collected facade beneath which a mad genius sparked, the eerie glint of it in his green eyes. Thought of his secretive smiles when he thought no one was looking. Albus’s soft voice, speaking only with purpose, and always with the undercurrents of hidden knowledge. Albus sneaking around the house, always popping up where you least expected.

She thought of James, whose mother she might never have been. Thought of his impish smirk, a thousand mischievous thoughts flitting behind black eyes. Thought of his big, warm hugs that healed any wound. Every shift of James’s body confident and fluid, contagious energy to those around him. James tickling his siblings to make them laugh whenever they were sad. 

She thought of Harry, who might not have the chance to break her heart every day. Thought of the steady strength he brought to every room he entered. Thought of the warm, muscled arms encircling her every night. Meeting Harry’s gaze in a crowded room, matching his firm smile, moving together as one well-oiled machine. Harry’s tender kisses in the sunlight, her soul soaring with his through clear blue skies. Harry’s deep, loving kisses in the dark, clinging to him as if they were the only two people left on earth. 

She thought of Harry giving those intimate kisses to Snape and knew it to be a lie. Instead she saw biting, vicious kisses. Imagined them tearing at each other like beasts. Harry would never give Snape what he gave her. And Ginny gave Harry what Snape was incapable of. What she shared with her husband was a broken mass, but it was solid and they alone understood the mechanics. It was her and Harry against the world, even when they were against each other. 

“No, no regrets,” Ginny had replied with her public smile.

* * *

“How am I supposed to know what’s best for me?” Ginny whispered, the shake of her head dispersing the unwanted thoughts. 

“You think about it,” Hannah suggested. Ginny snorted to herself. Precisely what she did not want to do would of course be Hannah’s suggestion. “Long and hard. Be by yourself and think about what you want for yourself. Think whether you’re getting everything you need. Think about whether you want your life to continue the way it is.” 

Ginny laughed. She wasn’t sure why. Only when that laughter became sobs did Hannah move over to hug her. It was easy to know what she wanted, when what she wanted was what Hannah had. A content, easy life. A loving husband whose eyes never strayed. She wanted to be happy. 

And however much she loved Harry, however much she wanted Harry, she was not happy.

* * *

Work dragged by on Monday, in part due to the fact that Harry had heavily considered calling in that day. What would he have done without work? Mope around the house over his son leaving home? More likely he’d have made matters worse by banging down the door of James’s new flat. Banging down the door of Malfoy Manor, demanding Albus come home, whatever his mother had said. At worst he’d hunt down Severus; the idea of that set him firmly off to work an hour early, throwing himself into mindless paperwork. 

That was the worst part of being Head Auror - the endless paperwork. He saw much more field work before the promotion. Harry would rather be stalking the streets for suspects than reviewing and approving requests for raids and arrests. The whispers of “new Death Eaters”, using the old name of Knights of Walpurgis, might be more interesting if he could do more than read about it. If he wasn’t the one who had to make the decision that there was not enough evidence to act upon, yet. Instead he would send more Aurors out to gather more intel, and sift through more paperwork until they could make a move. 

What Harry needed was a move to make. Something more hands on than this. A little action might distract him for a time, but sitting behind his desk, staring at case reports, his mind wandered easily from Dark wizards to his son. To James.

His lies had driven James away. His son was hurting. Nothing Harry could do would fix that. It was his fault James was gone. His fault Ginny was upset. It all came back to him, his own actions, the foundation of lies his entire life balanced precariously upon. What he had never really considered before was how his life was not his own; it belonged also to Ginny, James, Albus, and Lily. They were the people he loved the most. They were the people most damaged by all he had done. 

“C’mon, Harry,” Ron said from the doorway. Harry jerked, sitting upright, a pile of parchment tipping over onto the floor. “Let’s go to lunch.”

“I really need to finish this,” Harry said, glancing at the time. It was well past noon, well past his usual lunchtime. He couldn’t even remember if he’d had breakfast. His stomach grumbled hopefully. 

“You really need a break,” Ron corrected. “C’mon, mate.”

Ron didn’t outright prod as Harry followed him to their favorite diner. It was his face, the slight frown, the raised brows, his aura silently screaming to “just let it out, Harry!” Ron genuinely wanted to help. His best friend had no idea what he was asking for. There was no one Harry could think of he wanted to know less. Ron would never forgive him. Harry could never expect him to. 

They did not speak as they ate, though Harry imagined doing so. What would hit Ron first, he mused, the fact that Harry cheated on his sister, or the fact that he used to screw around with Severus Snape? Ron had never gotten over them naming Severus godfather to the children. Certainly not naming Albus after him. 

At least Hermione made an effort with Severus. Harry liked to think they were friends, even. Hermione always spoke with Severus when they were in the same room. They had plenty to discuss, most of it going well over everyone else’s heads. They even visited from time to time without the excuse of birthday parties or other family events. 

Hermione might forgive his loving Severus, whether she understood their chemistry or not. Maybe if he had done things the right way…Well, that didn’t bear thinking about. He hadn’t done things the right way. And while Hermione might forgive his choice in partner, he did not think she would be so lenient in regards to his previous slip-ups. Falling in love with Severus Snape was one thing, cheating on one’s wife another.

“I heard James got his own place,” Ron prompted as their bill was brought to them. 

“Yeah,” Harry said numbly. “Eighteen, you know. Ready to be out on his own.”

“Right,” Ron scoffed, at least fed up with Harry’s evasion. 

What was another drop of guilt on the overflowing cauldron of it inside of him? Harry paid for them both. “He’s just going through something right now,” Harry offered. “Ginny and I are handling it. It’s private.”

“We’re family,” Ron reminded him. “Hermione and I, we only want to help.”

“I know,” Harry said, forcing a smile. “I appreciate that. But really. Ginny and I can handle this.”

“If you say so, Harry,” Ron sighed. “Just remember what I said, alright? There’s nothing you can’t tell us, you know that.”

Harry smiled grimly. “Yeah, Ron. I know.” If there was one things his oldest friends would never understand it was the mistake that led to all of this. 

They chatted of lighter topics as they walked back to the office. Quidditch, mostly, leading to the attractiveness of various female players. Ron’s biggest crush was Balbina Frost of the Canons, which provided endless amusement to his wife and friends. She was just his type: busty, leggy, dark-eyed, thick shiny hair, and to top it all off she was Keeper for his favorite team. 

Harry’s Quidditch-player of choice (other than his wife, mind you) was Fallon Walsh of the Kestrels. As Seeker, she was very small, but very toned, with bright blue eyes, freckles, and short golden curls. 

“She’s cute enough,” agreed Ron. He only had eye for the curvaceous type, himself. “I hope you hide all your posters. You know how jealous Gin can be!”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed dully, stepping into his office. The new file sitting neatly on his desk drew his attention before anything. It shouldn’t have stood out, with all of the other paperwork piled everywhere. This, however, was sitting neat and straight right in front of his chair, as if Fern made a special place for it on his messy desk. Harry was too aware of the movement of his body, giving off no anticipation or impatience as he walked over to it.

Ron looked down at it curiously when Harry examined it. “Esther Unger?”

“Person of interest,” Harry didn’t quite lie. “Look, mate, I really need to get these forms filled out. But we’ll have dinner soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed. With one last suspicious look at the file, Ron returned to work. 

Esther Unger. Severus’s current bed partner. His fingers drummed over the folder, just itching to tear it open, to scan every last word of it. The request had been put in the day after Severus mentioned her name, and only now had it come back to him. Every day he waited anxiously. Every day he fought the urge to check in, to draw any more attention to his search. 

Now? Now, it didn’t matter. Couldn’t matter. The file was unceremoniously stuffed into the bottom drawer of his desk. Esther could have Severus. What Harry had to focus on was the family he had. What good did it do to cling to what could never be? What right did he have to be upset with Severus for keeping company? Did he expect Severus to be alone and miserable the rest of his life, pining for him? 

It might have been nice, but it wasn’t fair. Not to Severus, nor to Ginny.

* * *

Esther Unger was not a beautiful woman. Too tall for most men’s tastes, her shapely form may have made up for it had it not been for her unfortunate face. Her features were too severe to be lovely, forehead too pronounced, mouth too wide, the upper lip larger than the lower. Her teeth were crooked. Her irises were an odd shade of gray-brown. Her hair was thin, the color of straw, a chunk of it gray on the right side. 

No one would call her beautiful, but everyone would call her smart. Severus rather liked smart. They worked for St. Mungo’s, though they only met by chance. Severus worked in experimental potions, improving or inventing recipes as needed, supplying basic needs in his downtime. She was a healer, primarily on the second floor, though she was experienced and knowledgeable enough to aid other wards. It was she who came to him, to see if he could possibly cure dragon pox. Drinks after work one night, one thing led to another, and now they had a mutually beneficial arrangement. 

After all, no one generally found Severus attractive, either. 

Trysts were not normally shared at the hospital, but Monday afternoon Esther called him to her office to “discuss his research.” He took his fill touching every curve, biting kisses into her generous breasts, stroking soft, hairless legs. Esther was wet and ready for him, a woman’s welcoming caress. Quiet, half-startled noises were puffed into his ear as he fucked her, and he could admit to being quite taken by them. 

Esther was not pretty, but she was all woman. He enjoyed a woman’s body; for looking, for touching. Never had he found a man’s body appealing until Harry wormed his way into his heart. 

Severus determinedly did not think of Harry as he fucked Esther on her desk. Now and again he thought he heard the echoes of Harry’s deep groans. Shudders racked through him even as he shoved them out of mind. The flash of green behind closed lids as he came could have been anything, certainly nothing to do with Harry bloody Potter. 

“Did you actually care to discuss my research?” Severus inquired once he was clean and clothed. 

“Yes,” Esther agreed. “Though I wonder if we might table that conversation for dinner?”

Severus shot her a suspicious look. They did not have dinner. They shared drinks and sex outside of work. At work they were friendly, sure. As friendly as either ever was. “I am not looking for a girlfriend, Ms. Unger.”

“Oh, don’t be daft,” Esther replied. “I’m not proposing marriage. Say no if you like, but I do rather enjoy your company.” 

It rather sounded like a date. Esther had not denied that it was. Truth be told, Severus also enjoyed her company. Her mind was sound, not prone to flights of fancy. Esther was honest, noble, but not particularly pleasant. They suited each other, coworkers gossiped. Gossipers never gave Esther much credit; she was far kinder than he. Not cloyingly sweet, as one might want from a healer. Instead she was good, down to her core. 

Severus had always been attracted to goodness, however far he himself strayed. 

“Perhaps,” Severus finally said. 

Esther did not smile. The softening of her features betrayed her pleasure. This was an uncomfortable realization, as he had made no promises. 

Severus had never been on a date before. He wasn’t entirely sure he should start now. The only companionship he actively sought was the occasional hookup. What need had he of romance? Certainly his previous experiences falling in love did not give him any desire to do so again. 

No, he did not expect to find love with Esther. What they did share was decent sex and more than decent conversation. He did not object, really, to spending more time with her. Besides, if sex bothered Harry so much, imagine his reaction if Severus ever found himself in a relationship. 

“Tonight, at seven, then?” he asked, more on a whim than truly thinking it through. 

Now Esther did smile, an ever so slight quirk of the mouth. “Yes, that is suitable.”

* * *

Mealtimes with the Malfoys were always dignified events, but more so when Scorpius’s grandparents visited. Scorpius was more polished than usual, in fancy pale blue dress robes. He was also quiet. Albus borrowed a set of silvery robes with golden clasps. It was more ostentatious than he normally cared for, but he held his head high as he examined his reflection. If only his hair wasn’t such a hopeless case. Albus attempted to smooth down the dark mop as Scorpius plucked at the unopened letter sitting on the bedside table. 

“Aren’t you going to read Mabel’s letter?” Scorpius asked. 

“Oh, yeah, eventually,” Albus said airily, straightening the front of his robes as though the action might also straighten out his nerves. “Don’t want to be late to meet your grandparents. That would be rude.” 

Narcissa and Lucius were more rigid and coolly polite than their son. Lucius sneered when he greeted Albus. Narcissa smiled faintly, but patted his cheek. Her fingers were frail and icy cold. Her smile grew warm when she greeted her grandson, and offered him the same cheek pat. Scorpius and Albus glanced at each other. Scorpius’s cheeks turned pink as Albus tightened his mouth to repress a smile. 

“Are the Potters too busy with their legions of fans to care for their own offspring?” Lucius asked.

“Father,” Draco warned curtly. 

“Hush, Lucius,” Narcissa whispered. 

The silvery eyes so familiar in Scorpius’s face were colder, sharper in that of the eldest Malfoy. Albus calmly met the gaze. However intimidating Lucius Malfoy thought he was, Albus was not worried. Not only did he trust Draco Malfoy to let no harm come to him, he trusted his father’s status as Head Auror would protect him. 

Besides, Albus knew more about Lucius Malfoy than Lucius Malfoy knew about him. For instance, Lucius did not know he sat before the son of one of his oldest friends. Albus wondered what the Malfoys thought of Severus being his godfather, and what their reaction might be if they knew he was more than that. Albus was tempted to see for himself. If he dared say the words, dared unleash more chaos, just for the sake of knowing precisely how the lines of Lucius Malfoy’s face would shift once he knew.

Instead, Albus focused on what he did know. Holding that gaze for several long seconds, he eventually dropped his eyes pointedly to the covered left forearm resting on the table. Albus knew that beneath that long, elegant black sleeve was a mark etched in faded black. The same ghastly mark that marred his father’s forearm, and that of Draco Malfoy’s. Death Eaters, all of them, or they had been once upon a time. 

Albus knew the atrocities committed by the Death Eaters, could envision Lucius and Draco and Severus performing those very crimes. He knew the ancient, dark history of the Malfoy family. Knew what generations of Slytherins had done in the name of blood purity. Knew the cowardly way the Malfoys had turned on the Death Eaters to save their own hides, and that of their son. Knew that to this day old heirlooms were hidden in dark corners, waiting to be uncovered, and the threat to the Malfoy family if they ever were. 

When Albus met those silver eyes again, he quirked a brow and carefully sipped his juice. Lucius’s face was stony, a drop of fear rippling in those eyes. 

From the head of the table, Draco hid a smirk behind his goblet of elfwine. Narcissa primly wiped her mouth with a napkin. Scorpius shot Albus a warning glare. 

“I only meant to comment on the Potters’ naturally busy schedule,” Lucius explained. “Such beloved heroes surely have myriad calls on their time.”

“Yes,” agreed Albus graciously. “Especially when one is Head Auror.” He could have carried on, dropping hints of his father’s investigations, but naming his career was threat enough for one evening. 

“Quite,” Lucius agreed tightly. 

Draco offered him a wink before steering his father’s attention. “Father, we never did finish our discussion of foreign investments.” 

As the adults began to converse about business, Scorpius leaned in. “What were you thinking?”

“Oh, you know, family honor and all that rot,” Albus muttered gleefully. In part, perhaps, he did feel the rush to defend his parents. To deflect attention from why he had been a guest here for so long. Mostly, Albus had to admit, he just wanted to know what Lucius would do. Would he be angry? Fearful? Defensive? Proud? Ashamed? Such choices. Various Death Eaters displayed various reactions to their Marks being noted. And rare Albus could spot them without the fear of retaliation. 

Once dinner was finished, the adults moved to the sitting room to share more wine while the teenagers went roaming the halls of the grand manor. Albus wasn’t sure there was a crevice left undiscovered, but Albus hunted anyway. Scorpius came along, himself alert and checking within vases and behind frames. 

“What do you think your family would do if they found out the truth? How would they react?” Albus asked.

“What? About you, you mean?”

“Yeah,” Albus agreed. “They’re close to Severus, or they used to be, right?”

“Yeah. Father still sees him sometimes. I dunno about Grandfather.” Scorpius was quiet, considering, as Albus flipped through a book. Now that he was seventeen, he freely used magic to be sure it was just an ordinary book. No hidden messages or meanings or abilities there. Albus put it back and selected another.

“I dunno, really,” Scorpius said. “Shocked, I guess. I think that would be anyone’s reaction.” 

“Would they be angry?” Albus asked.

“I doubt it. None of them are personally affected by it. Grandfather might make snide remarks about your family, but he does that anyone. He’d only have new material to work with.” 

“Hmmm.” Nothing unexpected found there. Scorpius had a point, most people would think the same. Little point in lingering on the what-ifs when it would never happen. Their love had been hidden for too long to be uncovered now. Albus wouldn’t tell anyone - other than Scorpius, that was. He certainly wasn’t telling Mabel. His heart clenched at the thought of her and the letter that lay unopened upstairs. 

James might be hotheaded, but if he had come this far without spilling the beans, Albus didn’t think he would anytime soon. James wasn’t a spiteful person. He would never harm anyone with a clear head. It was only in the moment of his heightened emotion you had to worry about. 

Lily was more spiteful than James, but too loyal to her own family, and too unwilling to sully her own image. No, Lily would not want to rock the boat while she was still on it. Besides, she was too much of a daddy’s girl and would probably forgive Harry before anyone else did. 

Even if his siblings were so inclined, his parents had been clinging to their facade for too long to give it up now. Harry and Ginny would reign them in at the first hint of indiscretion. 

Knowing this set Albus at ease. This had been his secret, too, for so long. He was not willing to give it up now, whatever he felt towards his parents. In fact, he now had his siblings to rely on and confide in. It was, at last, the family’s secret.

* * *

James entertained his whole first day in his new flat. It was for the best. James did not like to be alone. He always thrived in company, the more the merrier. School friends dropped by. Most brought gifts, others food, some only laughter, but James enjoyed all they gave. Their joy for him inspired joy in him. All day he rode the high. 

Only after dinner the crowd trickled out until James was finally alone. Good spirits fled him as he collapsed onto his couch. He’d never been alone before last night. Bumps and creaks from neighbors weren’t the same as feeling the presence of others. They were too distant. James liked more noise. More life. 

“Jame?”

James popped up. Teddy stood in the doorway, smiling awkwardly. James quickly crossed the room to him. “You came.”

“Of course I came,” Teddy said. There was more he meant to say. James could tell. There was a fire in him now, though, and whatever Teddy had to say could wait. He grabbed the other wizard by the face, kissing him enthusiastically. Teddy stumbled forward with every backward step James took. He never stopped him as they fell into bed. A wave of a wand closed the door before anyone could peek in.

There were a thousand and one ways James wanted to have Teddy, but he was determined to make the most of his time. Here was his second chance. If he did everything right, maybe then Teddy would stay with him. James enthusiastically pushed all of his love and desire into every kiss, every touch, begging without words for Teddy to love him and want him in turn. 

The second time was better than the first. James sank onto his lover with only a twinge of pain, soon becoming sighs of pleasure. When Teddy watched him, his face was clear and lax with awe. Never had James wanted to impress another person more, and threw everything he had into his performance. 

Tonight, he would make Teddy Lupin his.


	7. To Hold That Swelling Truth

Over the days, Ginny counted the times she had threatened to leave. Looking back, she wondered if she’d ever meant it.

Too many times to count, before Severus Snape disrupted matters. Through the anger, through the alcoholism, she hadn’t known how much she could take. Ginny had struggled with her own demons in those days. She’d fought with her own rage. Who else did they have to target, but one another? 

It had been every night woken from terrors with Harry pulling her into his arms and promising she was safe that kept her coming back. It was every night woken from his screaming where she would press kisses to his sweaty brow, and listen to the scenes that plagued him. They shared too much, even before the children. How could she walk away from the only person who understood? When the nightmares seized her, no amount of her mother’s coddling compared, and she longed for her Harry to rock her back to sleep. 

After Snape, Ginny learned just how much she could stand. The clashing of their recovery was a simple matter. They could heal together. They were healing together, day by day. The betrayal of her husband was novel. Unprecedented. Harry was solely to blame; Ginny had every reason to leave. Staying only welcomed more heartache, the wounding of her pride; time and again she wondered, was this a testament to her strength or evidence of her weakness? 

The first time was the worst time, and the only time she had a chance of leaving. Pregnant a second time, proof of an affair she had only half suspected. He had told her, voice heavy with exhaustion, listening solemnly as she raged against him. 

“Here I am, raising _your_ son, while the pair of you carry on without a care in the world!” she’d screamed. “Am I an idiot, Harry? After everything I’ve done, and you carry on behind my back? Why? Why, Harry, why?”

James screamed from his nursery, disturbed by the noise. Harry’s eyes had flicked to the door, but he remained where he sat. “I don’t know. I was drunk.”

“Drunk,” she scoffed. “Of course you were. When are you not?”

“That’s not fair!” Harry argued. “I’ve been better, haven’t I?”

“No, you haven’t,” Ginny snarled. “You’ve been letting that useless bastard fuck you while I sit at home taking care of your responsibilities.” 

Ginny had left that night, James in tow. Her parents asked their questions and she kept her silence. James had been the product of their separation. This new child was proof of his waywardness. A new child, much like the one in her arms. 

Staying meant Glamours, meant putting on another show. It meant putting her career on hold for a fake pregnancy. A whole season the Harpies would play without her. And for what? So her husband could crawl back into Severus Snape’s bed while she changed diapers? 

What would it mean, if she left? Giving up James? Even if it didn’t, how would James be affected? What of James’s brother or sister, growing up motherless? What of Harry, pregnant and alone. Snape would never love Harry the way she did, could never give him what he needed. All night she stayed awake, watching James sleep. She knew she couldn’t go back to Harry, could not accept what he had done. All night she imagined her beautiful world falling apart around her. She considered every consequence that would befall them, and thought Harry deserved everything coming his way.

But by morning, when he was swearing to never touch Severus Snape again, swearing he loved her more than anything, whispering that he wouldn’t blame her if she did leave, Ginny was relieved. Whether she believed him or not was inconsequential; all she had wanted was a reason to go home with him. 

It was as easy to love Al as it was to love James. She loved him from the moment she decided to be his mother. 

Years passed, and Ginny wondered now and again just what Harry did when he was at Snape’s alone. She never wondered for very long. Ginny chose to trust her husband, because it was a long time before she had to face the facts. It was one sleepless night laying beside him, breathing in another man’s scent that every fear swam through her, setting her imagination running wild. Harry had slept with Snape before, had cheated on her before. Why not now? 

Despite her raising his sons. Despite the fact that she had finally given him a child of her own. Lily, their one year old daughter, cried hungrily from down the hall. Ginny slipped from bed, mechanically feeding the girl, then fixing breakfast for the boys. Harry was awake by the time the children were all fed and cleaned. He followed her as she packed their belongings. 

“You smell like him,” Ginny said brusquely when he asked her why. 

She and the children stayed with her parents for days. All the while Ginny had bidden her time. Maybe she’d drop the word “divorce” and see how he would react. Ginny wanted him to hurt, wanted to punish him. Never once did she actually consider separation. Deep down she knew she’d go home again. They shared a family and a life; they always would. 

Snape would never give Harry what he needed, Ginny reminded herself. Harry would always come back to her. 

Only Ginny could give Harry what he needed. But did she give him what he wanted? 

The new question rang through her skull whenever she was not distracted. So Ginny busied herself in preparation for Albus’s homecoming. By day she worked, and in the mornings before and the evenings after she tidied up the house and straightened his room. She also bought new items to fill James’s room, so it would feel homey whenever he returned. 

Wednesday night, she helped Harry cook. He was always the better at it, and she wanted dinner to be perfect. Steak and kidney pie was Al’s favorite. His dessert of choice had always been banoffee pie. Ginny took a fair crack at it, letting her husband take over midway through. She was too caught up in her own head to note his own pensive mood. 

Lily, too aware of them both, opted to not set the table in an act of rebellion. Neither parent noticed. Ginny took the task upon herself, and at six on the dot Albus Flooed in. 

“This looks great, Mum,” Albus said awkwardly. “Dad.” 

“Welcome home, Al,” Ginny said, kissing his cheek. 

“Yeah, welcome home,” Lily muttered moodily, flopping down at the dinner table. 

The meal was a somber affair. James was a marked absence. Lily picked at her food. Albus ducked his head over his plate, quickly shoveling food into his mouth so that he might be excused early. It was not the evening Ginny had had in mind. Somehow her daydreams had involved more laughter and hugs, breaking the ice with a warm meal, nudging Al to accepting his father again. Ginny was frustrated with herself for failing her end, then decided to blame her husband instead. 

It would never be over as long as Harry loved Snape, Albus had told her. 

Harry always came back to her in the end, but how much of it was his love for her, and how much of it was lack of option? If he loved Ginny, was it because of her, or what she was doing for him? 

If Snape ever decided he could give Harry more than a good fuck, would Harry still be here with her? 

Only when the meal was wrapping up and both children were gone did Ginny speak. The words had been sitting on her tongue for minutes now. It would not do to hash this out in front of them. Certainly not after they had been through so much.

“I think we should take a break, Harry.”

Harry laughed. “I cleaned as I went, Gin. The rest won’t take long.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Ginny said, pushing her plate away. 

Harry frowned. “A break from what, Gin?”

“From us,” Ginny said, considering the plan she had reviewed with her counselor once upon a time. “We finish off the summer for Al’s and Lil’s sakes. Then you move to Grimmauld Place, and I’ll stay here. Six months. We see other people, live our own lives, and in six months we see if we still want to make this marriage work.”

Harry stared at her for a long time. He watched as she rose from the table and collected the dishes. He sat in his same chair as she washed them and put them away. He didn’t move until she walked upstairs, following her to their bedroom. 

“I haven’t slipped up in almost six years now,” Harry said. “I did go to see Severus the other night, but nothing happened! I swear!”

“It’s not about that,” Ginny said. She moved into the adjoining bathroom to brush her teeth. It hadn’t hit her yet, the reality of this. She hoped that moment would wait until she was alone. “You still love him. After all these years.”

“I can’t help that.”

“I know,” Ginny said. “Maybe this will.”

“How? So I can go fuck him out of my system?” Harry snapped. 

“Maybe I want to fuck you out of my system,” Ginny retorted. “Maybe I want him to hurt you enough to break whatever spell he’s cast on you. I don’t know, Harry!”

Her husband stepped up behind her, rubbing her arms. “Gin, I know this is hard, everything. But don’t you think we should stick together through this?”

Tears threatened to fall. Ginny turned in his arms and shoved him. “I think I’ve stuck by you long enough, Harry. For too long.”

* * *

The remainder of summer passed by like a breeze. Tension never fully faded from the Potter household. Albus did laugh at his father’s work stories. The shadow temporarily lifted from Lily’s eyes when she and Harry went flying. Ginny smiled at him when others were around. Sometimes she even did so in private. She never did cuddle up to him in bed, unless she was asleep and unaware. 

The night before school began, they made love. Ginny initiated it. She wore her most revealing pink gown. She kissed his neck. She took his hand and led him to bed. Her body arched beautifully into his touch. She was soft and silky smooth beneath his hands. Harry was hopeful when he slid inside of her. He clung to her sweaty, moaning form, pouring all that he had into her. 

When she kissed him, though, at the end, it tasted like goodbye. 

That kiss weighed heavily on Harry as they brought the children to King’s Cross. Ginny laughed brightly, arm twined naturally with Harry’s. Worry melted from Ron and Hermione’s faces to watch them. Harry grinned through the pain, keeping up the act. It was a role both were well versed to. Never had the mask been so hard to wear. Always he’d had Ginny. She was his rock, his partner in crime. However she felt about him, they worked in tandem, so connected by their treachery. 

Today, she’d never felt farther away. 

Lily hugged her mother, then him, parting with a smacking kiss on his cheek. Harry laughed, fondly watching her red hair trail behind her as she ran to board the train. Lily was glad, truly, to be heading back to school. Albus mimicked his sister’s normalcy. He hugged his mother, let his father pat his back, offering fake smiles as he promised to write soon. His departure settled matters for Ron and Hermione. To them, the danger had passed. Only Harry sensed that coldness beneath. Like them all, Albus had taken to lying perfectly. 

“Dinner, all four of us this Saturday?” Hermione suggested.

“We’ll get back with you,” Ginny explained. “Harry and I have plans, you see?”

“Of course!” Ron agreed, clapping Harry on the back. “Owl us with a good time, then, yeah?”

“Sure,” Harry agreed warmly. They would not be making that dinner date. Harry wondered how long Ginny would keep the charade up. They couldn’t hide a six month break from the entire family, could they? Would they meet as a unit occasionally to keep up appearances? Would that defeat the purpose of a break? Harry wouldn’t mind. He wasn’t on board with this break at all.

* * *

At home, Ginny ran to Lily’s room, locking the door behind her. They were carrying on with it, then? In a state of disbelief, Harry raised his wand, directing his belongings into a large trunk. Clothes, books, mementos. His broom followed last, settled neatly on top. Only Ginny’s clothes hung in their closet, folded in drawers. Only Ginny’s toiletries cluttered the bathroom counter. Only Ginny’s shampoo in the shower. Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat. 

They’d chosen this house together before they married. He had only left once in that time, during the separation early in their marriage. The separation during which he first discovered his attraction to Severus. If he had not been relegated to Grimmauld Place, had he not sought comfort in his friend, had he not been so devastated by the idea of divorce, would any of this have happened? Would he instead be truly happy and content with his wife and their children? 

Silly question. James would not be James, Albus would not be Albus. Even Lily would not be Lily. What ifs were one thing, but Harry didn’t have it in him to regret his children, regardless of cost. 

Harry took his time on his last sweep through the house. The contents of his office were emptied completely. His favorite boots were nearly forgotten in the shed. His favorite cookbooks he took with him, as well as the box of his favorite biscuits. His trunk floated behind him as he circled back to the living room. A glance upwards, where Lily’s room was overhead, where Ginny sat now. Was she crying? Was she regretting her choice? Was she cursing his name, begging him to hurry and leave? He wanted to go to her, hold her, kiss her, plead with her. She was more than his wife, more than a lover. She was his partner through hell and back. He didn’t know who he was without her anymore. 

He was not to say goodbye, though. There was only one thing left to do before leaving. Sliding off his wedding band, he dropped it onto the clutter tray on the coffee table, as instructed. 

“Bye, Gin,” he whispered and Disapparated.

* * *

Kreacher was dead some nine years now, and Grimmauld Place was lonelier than ever. The house was too big, too empty. Every breath in was a reminder of loss. Losing Sirius. Losing his parents. Losing Dobby, and then Kreacher. Losing Remus and Tonks. All of the people who once stood within these walls, the people who cared for him and who he cared for. 

Losing Ginny, now. Losing his children. Losing Severus.

Harry went straight to Sirius’s old bedroom and set his trunk to unpacking itself. Clothes and books zoomed through the air as he leaned against the window, looking down into the street. London wasn’t Godric’s Hollow. The Muggles below were in too much of a hurry. Even if they paused to look, they wouldn’t see number 12. They wouldn’t see Harry.

No one would see Harry here. No one would know he was here. No one knew what was happening because he’d let pretense control his life. Now he saw no escape from the lies he’d wound around himself. He couldn’t talk to Ron or Hermione, or even Ginny. Neville and Hannah, maybe, if he wasn’t too ashamed to face them. 

Harry couldn’t complain. He’d done this to himself.

They would spend six months apart, reuniting only for Christmas to be with the children. Otherwise, no contact. Free to date and shag whoever they pleased. Let her fuck half the town, if she needed, as long as she came back to him.

Was Severus fucking Esther now, he wondered?

Was Ginny already trying to move on? 

No. Ginny always came back to him. They had separated before. Maybe she was punishing him. Maybe he deserved to hurt and worry the way she had hurt and worried for so long. Maybe she really did want him to get Severus out of his system.

He was free. No strings. No consequences. For all intents and purposes, he was a free man. Free to date and kiss and fuck anyone, though his mind only went to one person. Free to pay Severus a visit on his own. Free to share a glass of wine, cook him dinner, free to reach out and touch him without shame. The possibilities were endless. Even at his most reckless he had never indulged with Severus as he wanted. 

Desire and sorrow danced within him. Conflicted, so conflicted. Items dropped to the floor as he loosed the spell. Would he really be able to get Severus out of his system? Or would indulgence only make it harder on them both? Would Ginny really come back to him? Or was she trying to move on? 

He could unpack tomorrow. For now, he needed to go to work. If he didn’t work, he was going to drink, and Harry did not trust his self control in a bar right now.

* * *

On the Hogwarts Express, Albus shared a compartment with Lily, Scorpius, Mabel, and her brother Eugene. Lily adored Mabel, giddily talking her ear off about inane topics. It galled Albus how unconcerned Lily seemed, after all they had been through that summer. Mabel grinned and cajoled, her presence like sunlight, drawing forth every ounce of hope and happiness in his sister. 

Albus shied away from her light, tucked in by the window beside Scorpius. For a time Scorpius fended off Eugene’s questions to Al, letting Al have his quietude. Peace was not the right word. Time had eased the wounds. It had not healed them. 

Somehow Mabel’s presence only made it worse. That was a new experience. Never had his girlfriend pulled all of the negative to his surface. The swamp of despair, distrust, anger, and shame sludged through his veins. The hate in his heart roared to life in the face of her love. 

Mabel was sweet, offering all of her attention to his sister. That was her way, to give all of herself to whoever she gave her time to. When you talked to Mabel, you were her entire world for that time. During that period, she didn’t see the shadow looming over him. Once she did, Mabel lifted her foot to kick gently at his knee. Alarm crossed Lily’s face, and she dragged Mabel into a new conversation, scraping the bottom of the barrel for any topic uncovered. Mabel frequently looked to Albus. The question was on her lips, but she took the hint and left well enough alone, for now. The promise of _soon_ went unspoken. 

Soon she would be poking and prodding, urging him to spill his guts. Spill he might, now that he had broken that dam. He no longer had faith in his ability to hold back, now that the truth had broken free of him. Albus wanted to hold back, yet he didn’t. He wanted to shout it from the tops of the towers, shedding light on the whole debacle. He did not want anyone to know, least of all her. The family secret was no longer a source of pleasure, but of deep regret. Of humiliation. The secret was not mysterious, it wasn’t unique, it wasn’t fun. It corroded, it festered, it poisoned. 

Being near Mabel made his skin crawl. Knees clamped tightly around his clammy hands as he started fixedly out at the passing scenery. He did not want to be near her, he realized with surprise. He couldn’t say why. Nothing had changed in her. Her laugh was as high and loud as ever. Her gums still showed bright pink whenever she grinned. Her arms and legs still shifted restlessly as she sat in one place for longer than a few minutes. In every way, she was perfect. Albus sat witness to her generosity of spirit as she entertained Lily, and it made him care for her all the more. And that itself terrified him. 

Mabel, source of goodness, offered him now only dread.

* * *

When Ginny emerged from Lily’s room, it was to an empty house. It was not as if she’d never stood here alone. How many nights had she spent curled up on the couch with a book, children at school, Harry working late? During very serious cases, she might not see her husband but for brief moments when he came home to crash in bed. 

This was a different sort of emptiness. The presence of her family did not linger. There was no sense of impending return. Harry was gone. Not only in body, but in spirit. A twinge of relief mingled with her sorrow. All summer she’d hardened herself, preparing for this moment. Was it relief to have fulfilled this long overdue decision, or relief to have him away from her? 

Last night, making love, it felt like closure. Harry couldn’t be close enough to her, then. For the first time in months she let herself love him, basking in the glow of it. It made the parting easier, to have that bittersweet time to look back on. 

Change loomed on the horizon. A new life, a new Ginny. Hope rose to the surface as she drifted down the stair, hand grazing along the banister. In the past months she spared only enough consideration for this day, with no plans for what she would do with her newfound freedom. No children for the next few months, no husband. For the first time in many years, Ginny could devote time and energy to herself, and only herself. 

When he came back, she thought to herself, she would be stronger. They would be happier. During these six months she would gain wisdom, a sense of independence she had lost along the way, maybe adventurous stories she and Harry could laugh over when he was home again. 

_He’s not coming home,_ the house seemed to breathe. Ginny shrugged the away the heaviness of the air. The flare of enthusiasm was what she clung to for strength as she walked into the living room. The high of it flew from her when she saw the glint of his ring sitting where she’d demanded. Ginny’s fingers grasped her own band, twisting the ring around her finger. 

This was good, she reminded herself as she pulled the ring off, dropping it beside Harry’s. The shackles were gone. True freedom, now. She smiled even as tears trailed down her cheeks. Excitement twisted itself through her distress. Nervous energy vibrated through her. Ginny walked away from the rings, out the back door, unsure what she was doing, only that she had to do something.

Maybe she’d fly. Or garden, even. She could expand what they had here. Harry would come home to a nice new garden. It would fill her time in a productive manner. In the shed she passed her broom, grabbing the trowel. Gripping it like a weapon, she marched out into the garden, trying to hold unwelcome memories at bay.

It was with trowel in hand, she recalled, the only time she confronted Snape. It had never been intended as a weapon, really, but Snape had quirked his brow in a superior manner. 

“Surely you know appropriate curses for the occasion,” Snape snarked. “Or does your Muggle-loving father teach all of his children to brawl with Muggle implements?” 

Ginny dropped it to the floor, quivering with useless rage. “You’ve been expecting me, then?”

“Not entirely,” Snape replied. “Would you mind setting that outside?” His hands resumed the chopping of a tomato, back turning to her. Ginny wanted to kick it across the floor childishly, but reigned in the instinct. Instead she left it right where it was, breathing composure into her stiff body.“I had assumed you would turn a blind eye, as you are wont to do. At least in regards to Harry.” 

Never had Ginny heard Snape refer to her husband by his first name. Gooseflesh erupted across her arms. Too intimate for him to say it, least of all with the purr in those two syllables. 

“Is it a potion, then, or an enchantment?” Ginny demanded, face burning. Magical coercion was the only excuse she could think of for her husband’s behavior. Nothing else made sense, it never had. A one off might be excusable, but as an ongoing arrangement there had to be more to the story. Harry could not be truly in lust with this atrocious, hideous wizard. Certainly not when he had Ginny. And if Harry were bisexual, there were better male offers out there than Severus Snape. 

“I assure you, I did not lure your husband into my bed by underhanded means,” Snape said, still expertly dicing his fruit. “In fact, more often than not, I am not the one luring.” 

Before she knew what she was doing, Ginny pulled her wand free from her robes. Snape’s knife began cutting into a block of mozzarella on its own. His pale hand was bright against black robes, right where his own wand must reside. 

“Do you intend to duel for your husband?” Snape inquired, amusement ringing clear. Ginny reluctantly lowered her wand. “I have no desire to fight for him, Mrs. Potter.”

“Then keep your filthy hands off of him,” Ginny snapped. 

“They’re only filthy after I’m done with him.” 

Sparks flew from the end of her wand, so Ginny stowed it away before she could be tempted further. A dozen and more jinxes flashed to mind. Would any of them make a difference? It had been wrong to come here, she knew. It had not been her plan. None of this had been thought out at all. She had been hiding in the shed, overcome by emotions she could not process, and found herself Apparating into Snape’s home with a gardening tool still clutched in her hand. 

“He says he’s done with you,” Ginny said as calmly as she could. 

“Ah, but he’s said that before, has he not?”

“Maybe. But I’m not going anywhere. And neither is he. It’s me he comes home to. Every time.”

“If only you could keep him there.” 

The words cut deep. Ginny summoned her trowel back to her hand. “I don’t know what hold you have over him, Snape, but it’s not enough. Maybe he strays, but it’s me he returns to in the end. You might have him for a while, but you’ll never keep him.”

“There is only one thing I want from him, and that I get,” Snape snarled. Ginny could almost think he was lying. If she thought him capable of real human emotion, she might think he actually cared for her husband. “I send him back into your safekeeping once I’ve used him for all he’s worth.”

“Your loss, then, to not see he’s worth more than that.”

“Does he tell you what he wants, Ginevra? What he really wants?” Snape advanced on her, was breathing into her face, eyes alight with malice. “Does he tell you what he begs me for? Have you the faintest clue what I do to him?” Snape sneered. “It must gall that you can’t give the boy what he needs.” 

Ginny smiled, then, knowingly. Snape faltered here, studying the quirk of her mouth, the glow of knowledge brightening her face. However confused and disgusted she may be by this aberration, Ginny knew her husband. She knew him better than anyone. Certainly better than this selfish, lonely monster.

“You don’t know what Harry needs,” Ginny assured him. She could have carried on, listed the ways he would never know her Harry. Snape was thrown off by her words now. Ginny liked to fight dirty, but she liked winning even more. Waving cheerily with her free hand, she Disapparated.

That night she hummed merrily while fixing dinner. She greeted Harry with a kiss when he came home. She was in high spirits as she tucked in the children, and lascivious when alone with her husband at last. For that night, he was hers, in every way. 

Such a shame it hadn’t lasted.

* * *

It was that same confrontation Severus considered as Hermione prattled over tea. She spoke for a time about how things appeared so much better between Harry and Ginny. Severus bitterly held his tongue, carefully sipping his tea. 

Hermione always pressed for any insight he had into the Potter marriage, especially of late. Trouble in paradise? It was no wonder. Still, Severus refused to gossip, at least about the Potters. Hermione had been frustrated, pleading with him to help them through matters. If the Potters wouldn’t talk to the Weasleys, perhaps they would confide in a Snape. Not bloody likely. But what would Minister Granger know about that? Clearly she didn’t have the first inkling as to what was causing the tension between the couple.

Not that it mattered now, at least not to Hermione. Severus was not fooled. Harry and Ginny had mastered their public faces. Only Severus ever saw through them. 

It would not be unlike Ginevra to forgive her husband all of his sins. It was Severus she blamed for the whole affair. Rarely was Harry the target of her fury. Bearing that in mind, she had only really confronted him the once. She reminded him then that Harry would always return to her. Severus in turn reminded her, as he liked to do, that her husband would never stop throwing himself at him. It galled, for a time, that she seemingly won.

What Ginny may not know were every furtive kiss Harry stole over the years. What she may not know was how recently Harry had clung to him, rubbing his eager manhood against Severus. Somehow Severus doubted Harry had told her. Severus also knew Harry would excuse the whole incident as a lapse in judgment, consoled that they had not moved beyond a bit of rubbing. No orgasms, no promises broken. 

Severus didn’t see it that way. He doubted Ginevra would, either. 

“You still won’t tell me what it was all about, then, Severus?” Hermione asked.

“Not likely, no.”

Hermione smiled. “You’re a good friend to them, Severus, even if I could strangle you for it sometimes.”

“Ah, yes. The inevitable threats upon my life. I thought better of the Minister of Magic.”

“Oh fa,” Hermione scoffed. “Hardly a threat. More of a fantasy.” 

Such a shame she was married, and likely less likely to disregard those vows than her friend. For Severus could indeed fantasize about her. In fact, he might bring this up to Harry, if he ever saw him again. The brat’s jealousy might be fun to play with. 

Any fantasies he might entertain with regards to Hermione’s curvy body soon fell into fantasies about telling Harry every filthy thing he would like to do to Minister Granger. Fantasies about how Harry, in his envy, would try to chase every woman from Severus’s memory. With tongue and teeth and hands.

“Just to be certain, I may save this memory for a pensieve,” Severus warned. 

Hermione only chuckled, nibbling on a biscuit. “I really shouldn’t make such crude jokes in my position. However, I’m not sure you can have a friend if insults and threats aren’t exchanged.” 

“Ah. And you are under the impression we are friends, Minister?” Severus asked.

“Hermione,” she corrected promptly. “And yes, even if you are an arse about it.” 

Severus harrumphed as he selected his own biscuit. 

“You’ve been in our lives a long time, Severus. As friend, as honorary family,” Hermione explained. “You don’t have to pretend you don’t care. We won’t think any less of you.”

Strange, how his supposed friendship to Harry had brought him a slew of other so-called friends and self-proclaimed family. Severus did not claim any of them, though he now wondered at his semi-frequent visits with the Longbottoms and with Hermione Granger. There were people in his life besides Harry who checked in on him, reached out to him, desired any contact with him. 

Did he care about them? He certainly cared about Harry, much more than he liked to admit. Difficult to deny even to himself, how deeply he was in love with the little slut. What did that mean for the strays that followed Harry along? Attachment born out of pity or obligation or both, but it existed surely. 

No, it didn’t bear thinking about.

“Please, Minister, no sentiments over tea.”


	8. To My Fool's Bed

Ron made no comments at work. Harry expected him to pop in, wearing disappointment or worry on his freckled face. Instead Ron joked and laughed, at his ease for the first time in months. They had really fooled them, Harry thought, dumbfounded. Ginny had yet to leak news of their break to anyone. Even at the end she had never said what her intentions were, and Harry had been holding out hope she would take the whole thing back. 

There must be hope for them, if Ginny didn’t tell anyone. If they were pretending everything was fine. It would only be real if the family knew, Harry decided. As long as matters stayed between them, he had nothing to worry about.

It felt real enough when he wasn’t working, but Harry only went to Grimmauld Place to sleep. He ate out for his meals, working slavishly well past his usual hours, and exploring local bars in his downtime. He never ordered a drink, though he was sorely tempted. Bad enough he’d consumed firewhisky with Severus, right after the children discovered the truth. Look where that had led - nearly slipping up in more ways than the one. Harry had regained his self-control with Severus, and now refused even beers with dinner until he felt on more solid ground. Recovery would be ongoing, for the rest of his life, he knew. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down. 

Whatever he told his department, there was only so much work that needed doing. By day he took to the streets, hunting recently escaped Delphini Riddle. By night, he tackled what had once been endless paperwork. Now, his paperwork had never been so up to date, his desk never so organized. It was while tidying up his desk one night the following week that he came upon that file of Esther Unger. He set it on his desk, glancing at it throughout the day, only daring to open it once the day was over and his department was blessedly still. 

Esther was not very pretty, was his first unkind thought. Her figure was decent enough, he amended to himself, examining multiple photos. Curvy hips, full bust, and her stomach was only a bit flabby. Esther also wasn’t necessarily ugly. Not much. There were more hideous witches out there, at any rate. 

The witch was a healer for St. Mungo’s with quite the pedigree. She came from a long line of successful witches and wizards, all well-respected intellectuals. She was well-educated, graduating from Hogwarts with honors, an alumnus of Ravenclaw House; she had been part of many groups such as Charms Club, the choir, and the gobstones team; she studied mediwizardry abroad with top names in the field; even now she continued her studies in her spare time, learning every branch of mediwizardry available. She had published several papers on various diseases. Even articles outside of her specialty were well received from _Transfiguration Today_ and _Spellwork Solutions_. Most recently she had been featured in _The Daily Prophet_ , a long-winded essay about research being done on dragon pox, a passion project shared with “brilliant potioneer, Severus Snape.”

“Dragon pox,” Harry muttered viciously. “Very sexy.” 

Esther must know a lot about potions. She could probably keep up with Severus intellectually, sharing in-depth conversations about their complementary fields of study. They probably got off listening to each other use big words. Maybe he read the dictionary to her as foreplay. 

Did he grab her hips with the same possessive need he grabbed Harry’s? Did he groan into her ear and whisper how good she felt around him? Did she tremble in his arms, the way Harry trembled now at the memory? Did he collapse onto her in the end, sweaty and panting, holding her close like he never wanted her to slip from his grasp? Was he as hungry for her as he always was for Harry?

The jealous monster in his chest roared. Harry flipped the file closed, drumming his fingers on his desk. They were good together, Harry thought. Neither was conventionally attractive, both shared a dedication to knowledge, both exceedingly talented in a variety of skills. 

Their babies would be hideous, Harry thought viciously. They probably only fucked for the sake of convenience, a quick in and out to relieve an all too human need. He was probably bored, humping into her. She probably thanked him blandly after the fact. Harry snorted, rubbing his hands irritably through his wild hair. No, Esther Unger would not inspire that level of passion in anyone, much less Severus.

No, Severus’s intensity burned for Harry alone. 

Stuffing the file back into his drawer, Harry stood and half ran from his office. Once out of the Ministry, hidden from Muggles, Harry Apparated directly into Severus’s living room. For days he had held himself back, unable to decide what to do, but now he knew. He couldn’t let Esther have Severus. He had to remind Severus of what he had to offer.

It was spur of the moment, born of his own selfish jealousy. Severus always commented on his lack of preparation, lack of forethought. Might as well prove him right. Nerves jumped testily at the sound of music, a quiet symphony from the phonograph in the corner. Quiet laughter from the other room. Harry squared his jaw as he marched into the kitchen. The beast within flung itself against its cage, roaring furiously. 

The pair stood conversing, glasses of red wine in hand. Esther wore a form-fitting pink dress, more romantic than the severe cuts worn in her photos. Severus wore his usual black attire, though the first few buttons were undone, exposing a tease of pale chest. Harry wanted to press his mouth to that flesh, biting and sucking, marking him as his.

“Pardon me,” Harry said coldly. “Severus, we need to talk. Now. It’s urgent.” 

“He never did have manners,” Severus said with a tight smile to Esther. She frowned and glanced between the wizards. Harry struggled not to glower at her. “What can I do for you, Auror Potter?”

“We need to speak. Privately.”

“My office hours begin at eight in the morning. I am rather busy at the moment.”

“And I said it was urgent,” Harry snarled. Any number of subjects could require urgency, be it help on a case, or even their children, for Merlin’s sake! Leave it to Severus to draw it out, make him look a fool in front of his guest. 

“I suppose I can take a rain check, Severus,” Esther said, voice strained beneath the effort of cordiality. Severus was staring at Harry by now, his gaze calculating, magnetizing. Esther stood there a moment, as if waiting to be corrected, then set her glass down forcefully. “Goodnight, Severus. Auror Potter.” Head held high, she strode from the room. Harry snatched the glass from Severus’s hand, gulping what remained of the wine, as he heard the crackling of the Floo. 

“You were always a rude, nasty child. I had hoped age would improve matters,” Severus said. “To what do I owe this unpleasant surprise?”

“I’m sorry, did I interrupt your date?” Harry snapped. 

The blackness of his eyes burned with cruel triumph. “Yes.” Harry grabbed his collar and shoved him into the wall. “Aren’t you pleased, Harry? Here I am, helping remove temptation from your grasp.”

“Did you fuck her tonight?” Harry demanded. The hammering of his pulse rang loudly in his ears, vibrating through his skull. 

“Not yet,” Severus replied nastily. “I rather like to build the momentum with those worthy, you see? Take my time to savor them. I had you crowing within ten minutes, imagine what I can do with an hour of seduction.” 

“I hate you,” Harry seethed venomously. He leaned in thoughtlessly, nose bumping Severus’s roughly.

“No more than I hate you,” Severus replied against Harry’s mouth. The taller form leaned in for the promised kiss, but Harry turned his face away. Severus growled in frustration, teeth and lips bumping across his jaw in half-formed kisses. 

“Did you kiss her?” Harry asked. His body was strung tight with tension, fury and desire raging through his stiff body. 

“I have,” Severus whispered into Harry’s ear. “Often.”

“Tonight?”

Harry felt the man’s lips curl savagely against his ear as he breathed the word, “Yes.” Tongue stroked beneath his ear, already oversensitive flesh reacting strongly to the warm, wet feel of it, and Harry bit back a moan. 

This time Severus shoved him, a few feet back against the counter. The edges dug sharply into his lower back. Hooked nose slid alongside his own as Severus held him there, breathing in his air, black eyes alight with brutal humor. Harry grit his teeth. He wanted to punch him. He wanted to punish him for being with Esther.

“You don’t have the right,” Severus said. One hand stroked Harry’s belly, right above his crotch, and Harry bit his lip. The hand slid around his side, folding around his back, tugging him forward until they were flush against each other. “You don’t get to begrudge me this.” 

Harry wanted to rip him to shreds as Severus dropped his hand away, turning from him. He reached forward to grab the man, pulling him back, forcing him into a merciless kiss. Severus grunted into his mouth, returning the enthusiasm as he crushed Harry against the counter. Esther’s abandoned wine fell over, spilling down the cabinets as Harry braced his arm behind him. The glass rolled, resting on the edge, but not for long. Severus thrust his burgeoning erection against Harry, his arm sliding across the counter, nudging the glass so that it crashed to the floor. 

“Careless brat,” Severus snapped, grabbing Harry by the hips and turning him around. His arms scrambled for purchase as Severus pulled at his red auror robes, shoving away only the fabric guarding his destination. The man didn’t even bother with proper preparation, instead pressing the tip of his wand between his arse cheeks, two murmured incantations lubricating and stretching the area. It was an unpleasant, almost stinging sensation within, and Harry glared over his shoulder as Severus hastily parted his own robes, pulling his cock free from his trousers. Before Harry could even blurt out words of protest or encouragement, Severus was shoving his way roughly inside. 

Harry cried out. Severus paused, fingers digging harshly into his hips. “Alright?”

“Yeah, go,” Harry gasped. He held himself up on his hands, lifting his head enough to stare out of the window above the sink. The moon glowed brightly upon Severus’s garden. He thought he saw a gnome sneaking through the fence before Severus’s merciless thrusting drove all awareness from his mind. Blessedly, his mind could rest, blank as sensation overtook everything. The firm feel of his lover filling him, stretching him, _taking_ him. Cool, calloused fingers digging where Severus held him down. Hot, heavy breathing on the back of his neck. Then Severus nudged his prostate and he took in a sharp breath. Severus adjusted his stance, aiming relentlessly for his target, until Harry’s face was pressed into the counter top, whimpering helplessly with pleasure. 

Severus came first, stiffening behind him, grunting into his ear. Harry let out a pitiful sound as Severus pulled suddenly free of him, manhandling him once again until they faced one another. Severus glowered down at him as he took Harry’s manhood in hand, stroking once, twice, until Harry fell over the edge, body bending double in the force of it. 

For only a few seconds did Severus hold him up. He stepped away as soon as he was able, leaving Harry to slide to the floor, his legs wobbly and useless. He panted where he sat, watching Severus calmly right his clothing and walk away. 

For a man without a plan, this had not gone at all like Harry may have hoped. Cringing, he mentally cursed himself, gasping when his palm encountered a shard of broken glass. Harry scooted away from the shattered remains and carefully cleaned himself with a spell and fixed his clothing. Unsteadily he stood, rubbing his lower back. There was soreness, there, of a sort he hadn’t enjoyed in too long. The atmosphere did not lend to delighting long in it. 

Severus in the living room when Harry entered. He sat in his chair, finger tracing his thin lips, gaze unfocused on the fire. Harry walked up to him awkwardly. 

“This wasn’t what I meant to happen,” Harry said, clearing his throat. 

“What did you come here for, Potter?” Severus asked, tone more exhausted than he meant. Harry could hear the strain of the failed snark. 

“You,” Harry said simply. “Ginny and I are taking a break from our marriage. Six months. To…” Here he swallowed. “To sort out what it is we really want.”

“Of course,” Severus stated dryly. “Ginevera finally lets you off your leash and you come crawling here, expecting I’ll be glad of whatever scraps I’m given.”

“That’s not what this is,” Harry argued, pained. Always he’d thought of the hurt he gave Ginny; this was a classic reminder that she was not the only one affected. Even in the midst of their ongoing affair, he knew every night he crept out to return to his wife he was digging the knife in deeper. In the best of times he was breaking Severus’s heart, however often he returned, because he never stayed. His inability to choose between them was always a sore point. When he finally had to choose, finally committed himself fully to Ginny, he hoped it might get better. 

Maybe it finally had been, with Esther. Maybe he’d finally found someone new he could love and keep all to himself. Typical Harry, of course, bungled it up by barging in. What right did he have to be hurt? He was the source of pain to the people he loved most; he could suffer a bit of it himself. 

Only now, finally, he and Severus could be together without barriers. They could finally see if this entanglement between them was lasting, if it was durable. After all of this time, they had an opportunity. An opportunity Severus had wanted, once. Perhaps it had come too late. What right did he have to make demands? To ruin whatever Severus had with Esther?

Harry bowed his head. “I love you.”

“And what does that love mean, Potter?”

“It means I’m here! It means I want to give us a chance!”

“And I’m supposed to be grateful?” Severus asked, voice dangerous and slow. 

“You seemed grateful enough five minutes ago.”

“I’m always grateful to have a willing receptacle, whoever it may be.”

“Don’t do that!” Harry snapped, wounded. “Don’t act like this is nothing.”

“It is ‘nothing’.”

Harry’s jaw clenched, half believing the man for a moment. However good Severus may be at hiding his feelings, he couldn’t hide them from Harry. He was guarded - too guarded for a man pretending not to care. So Harry crossed the room, crawling into Severus’s lap. The man immediately moved to shove him away, but Harry grasped his arms and held on tight. “You can have me, if you want me. I won’t go home in the morning. I won’t watch the clock.” Hope and hatred blazing bright in the black eyes he so loved. “If you don’t want that, then say it. If you want to see things through with Esther…” Here his jaw clamped shut, unable to say it was fine. It wasn’t fine. 

Severus grabbed him, rising to his feet with Harry scrabbling to cling to him. Unceremoniously he dumped Harry onto the couch. Harry twisted to right himself, staring at his lover as the man summoned a phial from the other room. The deep violet potion was thick, coating the sheer container, glinting darkly in the firelight. Severus’s black gaze held Harry’s as he pulled the cork out with his teeth, spitting it aside before drinking deeply of the contents. Then he placed his hand on the back of the couch, behind Harry’s head, pressing the lip of the phial to his mouth. Harry parted his lips willingly, tilting his head back to accept the gift. 

It oozed slowly down his throat, fizzling like a soda all the way down. It tasted of black cherries, dark chocolate, with a heavy floral kick. Harry couldn’t read the man, but the potion was warm and growing warmer as it slid towards his stomach. “What was it?”

“Idiot,” Severus said fondly. Slender hands grasped his shoulders and shoved him down lengthwise before straddling him. Arousal stirred deep in his core, causing the beast within to growl indecently. “I could have poisoned you.”

“You can kiss me instead,” Harry gasped, entwining his fingers in the dark hair that fell around him. What could only be an aphrodisiac was burning his blood as it pooled between his legs, too fast. His head spun with the force of welcome lust.

“I’m going to do more than kiss you, Harry,” Severus purred. Still, the request was obeyed, a teasing kiss that stroked the embers of desire so recently satiated. In doing so, he fulfilled his own promise, long into the night.

* * *

Precisely one week into the new school year, Albus had managed to avoid his girlfriend but for classes. Always an excuse was at the ready if she sent notes dancing after him, or dropping into his lap via owl post. For the most part, he tried to stay busy, not only to avoid lying to Mabel as much as possible, but also by means of distraction. He studied hard, turned in extra credit work, joined the Gobstones team, the chess team, the Charms club, and he even visited his sister, to her delight. Otherwise he was glued to Scorpius’s side, feigning very important conversations that Scorpius struggled to portray convincingly. 

At breakfast on Wednesday, Mabel forewent use of her pygmy owl, Otis. Scorpius nudged Albus to bruising at her approach. The porridge he’d lifted to his mouth spilled down the front of his robes. “Damn it, Scorp,” Albus grumbled, doing a double take as Mabel came up behind them. Her lovely face was weathered by her worry. 

“Alby, take a walk with me?” she asked. 

“I really shouldn’t, I -” Albus said, but Mabel stomped her foot. Her face was pink, screwed up with frustration. A year ago Albus would have found it horrendously adorable. 

“We need to talk,” she demanded. “Now.”

Patience lasted only so long with Mabel. Her sufferance was saintlike for a time, but it did not fade gradually, but fell away all at once. A week was plenty of time to her, and now that she had waited, she would dig until she had what she wanted. 

“Fine,” Albus grumbled. He took his time wiping the porridge from his front until Mabel spelled it clean in exasperation. The spell was too forceful, leaving a fist-sized spot faded on his robes, smelling of smoke. All down the Slytherin table, his house mates ducked close to whisper. Curious faces turned towards them from the other houses as Albus scrambled up, following Mabel out of the Great Hall. 

Once outside the doors, she grabbed his hand tightly and pulled him out into the cool September morning. She said nothing as she marched them to a private area near the lake. His hand was sweaty in hers, and he half hoped it would slide right out of her grip. 

“Spill it, Albus. What’s going on?” Mabel asked, as calmly as she dared. He didn’t even have to speak, only open his mouth, for her to sense the lie brewing. “You were so…weird…last year, Al! I barely heard from you all summer. I didn’t see you once! And now, now that we’re here, you’ve been avoiding me! Something is eating at you, Al, and I need to know what it is! We can’t keep going on like this!”

“You’re right,” Albus agreed, turning to look at the lake. He felt outside of himself as he spoke, looking upon his own cowardice from afar. “You deserve better.”

“Thank you,” Mabel said, so easily placated. The terrible energy of her settled as she wrapped her arms around her middle. “So what’s wrong?”

“You deserve better,” he repeated meaningfully. “I hope you find better.” 

Her mouth fell open. Blue eyes widened, staring uncomprehendingly. He smiled apologetically as he walked away. All the while she stood there, watching him go. Only when he breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he was far enough away, did he hear her anguished sob behind him. His face crumpled and he ducked his head, picking up his pace to carry himself as far away from her as he could.

* * *

Enough was quite enough for Ginny Potter, having to hear from Fleur that her son was sick. It had been two months since she’d seen him last! She had not set foot in his new home, and had to hear from a source that James officially joined the Falmouth Falcons as Chaser. Ginny requested a meeting, then, on a purely professional basis, but was rebuffed even then. James owled back his statement, already aware of what his mother needed for her work. Ginny pinned the note up in her office, gaze straying to her son’s handwriting multiple times a day. 

Now, Ginny stood, dignity wrapped around her like a cloak. In her arms she cradled a pot of soup, a bag draped over her arm with other necessities. She knocked loudly, clearly, bracing herself for impact. Whatever James did, if he slammed this door in her face, she would at least get a good look at him, and be sure he took the offered goods. 

James was extremely pale when the door opened, eyes hazy with sleep as he blinked at her. “Hey, Mum.” He frowned at her full arms. “Did Vic send you?”

“Your Aunt Fleur,” Ginny corrected. She felt off balance now, having so prepared for a storm. Her poor Jamesy really was sick. “May I come in?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, shuffling aside to let her through.

The flat was quite sparsely set up. A single couch, a small bookcase, a small dining table and chairs. No decorations but for a few signed posters of bands and Quidditch teams on the walls. Ginny set about warming the pot with a spell, unloading the contents of her bag. James joined her at the bar, sitting himself on the one stool, slumped forward as he meekly watched her. Out came the bread, the potions, and a few treasures he’d left behind. One was the rather lopsided blanket Ginny had knitted him years ago. 

James reached for the blanket, wordlessly wrapping it around his shoulders. Ginny pressed the backs of her fingers to his forehead before ruffling his hair. No fever. According to Fleur he’d been ill off and on for several weeks. “Have you seen a healer?”

“This morning,” James agreed. Ginny rummaged through his cabinets; only one clean bowl, and only two dirty ones in the sink. She’d have to run to a shop and bring him more. The clean bowl was filled with soup and she neatly placed it before her son. “They don’t think I have a bug. Must just be something I eat that disagrees with me? I dunno, I barely want to eat. I sick up just about everything.”

“Hmm,” Ginny said. The fridge was equally spare, only a bit of pumpkin juice that would not sit well on his stomach. No tea in the cupboard, hardly anything there but snacks. Ginny snorted and returned to her bag, glad she’d brought along tea of her own. She set the kettle started then took out her wand as she approached him. 

“Mum,” James sighed. “If the healer couldn’t find anything, what are you going to do?”

“Stand up,” Ginny instructed. “Fleur says it’s been weeks like this?”

“Yeah,” James said. “I don’t know how I make it through practice. I get home and stuff my face and fall asleep, if I’m lucky. If I’m less lucky I throw it all back up and sleep in the bathroom. It’s miserable.”

“You shouldn’t be flying when you feel like this,” Ginny fussed. “No wonder you’re so unwell; you won’t let yourself recover!”

“I can’t miss practice, Mum, I just joined the team!” James argued. 

Gears began to turn in Ginny’s mind as she looked James up and down, hesitating before starting any spellwork. “I thought you didn’t have much appetite,” she said, reaching out to pinch his protruding stomach. Nothing, she was sure. If he was eating nothing but pumpkin pasties, no wonder he was sick, no wonder the pudge. 

“Yeah, well, when I can keep something down, I’m ravenous, aren’t I?” James said. He frowned as she stared at him considering. “What is it?”

“James,” Ginny began, crossing her arms uncertainly. The pieces were clicking into place, and she did not like the image they were forming. Her wand was clutched tightly in one hand, nervous silver smoke puffing from the tip. “Are you pregnant?”


	9. Hope...Prolongs the Torments of Man

James sat at the bar, spooning warm soup into his mouth, ignoring his mother. Ginny flitted from one area to the next, straightening his few belongings, then setting about writing down a list. She muttered under her breath of things to pick up from the store. Milk, eggs, vegetables, fruit, meat, bowls, plates, cups, etcetera. James ground his teeth. 

How did she even know he was gay? He thought he’d always hid it very well. He had a plethora of girlfriends throughout school. The crush on Teddy had been the deepest secret of his heart. Even his experiments with other boys had been closeted away in well warded closets at Hogwarts, with stern swears to never tell. Wizardkind grew more accepting as time passed, but it was not so forgiving of same-sex relationships as one might hope. Being Harry Potter’s son meant his outing would be rather public, and so would his shaming. 

James didn’t plan on hiding forever, but why deal with the fuss sooner than he had to? He had fantasies of an extended, private courtship between Teddy and himself, only announcing their relationship when they were to be married. They would present a unified front, and they would be such a sweet and happy couple that no one could help but to root for them. Any hate that came their way would be handled as partners, in life and love. 

“I wasn’t trying to insinuate anything about your figure,” Ginny finally said. “Or your preferences.”

The young wizard snorted. “You pinched my fat and implied I was gay.” James shrugged gruffly. “Which I am. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

“There’s not,” agreed Ginny. “I always suspected.” She smiled, amused, at his incredulous look. “I’m your mother. I know you. Besides, you don’t hide things very well, Jay.”

“Yeah, well,” James muttered. Relief settled over him, the same warm comfort as the blanket still wrapped around him. 

Ginny rested her arms on the counter that separated them, leaning forward to look him in the eye. Now that he knew whose eyes he shared, he couldn’t help but look away from her. She was his mother, she’d said. She was, at that. Who else came by with all of the proper cures for a stomachache? Even though he hadn’t seen her or spoken to her properly all summer? Even though he’d been so upset with them all, including her, all that time? 

James did miss her, though. He missed all of them, and he hated that he did. Only because he was feeling unwell and his guard was down, could he accept her presence so easily. 

“James, have you been intimate with a boy?” Ginny asked awkwardly.

“Mum!” James snapped, leaning away from her, heat staining his face red. 

“Answer me,” she said firmly.

“Yes, and?” James snapped.

“James. I am genuinely concerned that you might be pregnant,” Ginny said. James gaped at her, aghast, but she was dead serious. “You were on the receiving end?” However put together she appeared, however take-charge her manner, there was an awkwardness to that tone. Her own face was bright pink, even as she watched him closely. 

James swallowed, the jerk of his head possibly a nod. “But I can’t be pregnant, Mum. I didn’t take the potion. I swear I didn’t! I wouldn’t do that to T-” He quickly cut off before finishing Teddy’s name. Ginny did not latch onto the near slip. She did not make demands about any Toms or Tylers or Todds. It was not his lover that mattered to her. 

“Masculo Praegnatio is only intended to be taken when a man wants to become pregnant,” Ginny agreed. “It is the only known potion to induce a male pregnancy, and can only be successful in one way.” Anal sex with another man. James shifted the blanket around himself. “It is intended to be taken before each encounter, and is not intended to remain in the system for longer than twelve hours. I know, James. Trust me. Potions may not be my strong suit, but this one I know plenty about.”

She might know some of it, since her husband had become pregnant. James didn’t even know how that came to be. He never meant to ask. Severus was the inventor of the potion. It had been released to the public three years after his birth, a year after Al’s. Did Severus use Harry as a guinea pig? Did his father accept the potion willingly, or did Severus spike his juice with it? No, no, these were possibilities James had no interest in pondering. 

“Look at me, James,” Ginny said, and she waited. James’s eyes flicked from wall to wall before finally settling on his mother. Bright brown eyes were steady, serious, reinforcing the truth and gravity of the words she spoke. “Your father took the potion by accident, James. He was feeling unwell and went to Snape’s stores and grabbed the wrong phial. What he took was an tester of what is today the Masculo Praegnatio. It was not ready.” Ginny tapped the counter top warningly when James looked away. Reluctantly he met her eyes again. “We were lucky you and Harry were both okay. We weren’t sure how the potion would affect either of you. Hannah Longbottom closely monitored his pregnancy, and cared for you both for months after you were born. She had some medical training. Since we couldn’t turn to a fully trained healer, we relied on her. 

“But you have to understand, we were working with an unlicensed healer, and an experimental potion,” Ginny continued. “A year after you were born, your father got pregnant again. This time, there was no potion intake.” Ginny swallowed. “The potion stayed in his system, changed his body, so that he retained the ability to get pregnant. After Albus was born, Severus began brewing him contraceptives that he has taken every month since then.” Hesitation now, as Ginny toyed with the strings of her bag. “We never thought it might affect you boys. You were so physically healthy, we never considered if the potion might have transferred to you. I…I don’t know if that’s what this is. Maybe I’m wrong. But I would like to call Hannah here just to see, okay?”

James nodded numbly. It couldn’t be real, could it? Surely he hadn’t developed some genetic abnormality due to his father’s potion use nearly two decades ago. No, you had to take the potion to get pregnant. Wizards did not get pregnant without it. It had to be a mistake. His mother was jumping to conclusions because of her own internal struggles. She was projecting. Hannah would come and prove her wrong. They’d have a good laugh about it. He’d tease his mother for the rest of her days for her silly assumptions. One day, when he and Teddy did decide to have children, they’d look back at this moment with fond amusement. 

Unthinkingly, James’s hand drifted to his stomach as Ginny firecalled Hannah. 

* * *

Hannah understood Ginny’s concerns when she explained them. A half hour she waited while her friend found an employee to come in early so she could leave work. It was the longest half hour of her life. Restless energy urged James to pace the room, muttering to himself. Ginny leaned against the wall, staring out of the window blankly. 

“Hullo,” Hannah said when she finally stepped out of the Floo. She smiled kindly at James and motioned to the couch. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

James laid out on the couch as instructed, Hannah kneeling beside him. Ginny joined them, sitting on the arm of the couch, reaching down to stroke James’s hair. The boy worried his lip with teeth. As she’d always done when he was a child, she reached down to pinch his chin pointedly. James licked his lips nervously instead as Hannah frowned, performing the diagnostic spell necessary to determine pregnancy. Ginny had seen it before and knew what it meant, those hazy blue lights that sparked over his midsection. 

“I’m sorry, James,” Hannah said, looking from Ginny to James. “You’re pregnant.”

“Oh,” James said, voice as hollow as Ginny felt. Her fear confirmed. The three sat in silence, all eyes on those blue lights as they faded to nothing.

* * *

When Severus awoke, he felt he was being watched. Soft fingertips traced lazy patterns into his bare chest. Frowning, Severus blearily opened his eyes, greeted immediately by two bright emeralds gazing softly down at him. Harry was propped up on his elbow, free hand still drawing designs into his flesh. Swollen pink lips curved up into a fond smile. “Good morning, Sev.”

“Harry,” Severus said stiffly. The boy’s smile grew wider, amused by him. Severus scowled. “Good morning.”

Rarely had they slept in each other’s presence, not since their earliest days. Always Harry was rushing off to his wife and children, leaving Severus well enough alone. This sunny morning with Harry stretched out beside him, in no hurry to leave, was new. Severus found himself at a loss as to what to do or say. 

“I thought I might go into work a little late this morning,” Harry said uncertainly. 

“I should rather head in soon, myself,” Severus declined, glancing away from that bright gaze. “I begin a new round of tests this morning.”

“Sure,” Harry said, fingers drumming nervously into Severus’s ribs. Severus gently took hold of them and removed the hand from his person. “Shall I…come by after work?”

“I’m not sure when I’ll wrap up today,” Severus said, focusing his gaze on the corner of the ceiling. 

“Ah,” Harry said, tone chilly. “You’ll be meeting with Esther today?”

“Indeed,” Severus agreed. They did work together, after all, regardless of Harry’s insecurities. Did he owe Esther, he wondered, an explanation? His guilt? From the beginning it had been only sex, no strings attached, and even their newfound addition of date nights had not been meant as any form of commitment. Perhaps he should have been clearer on that front. 

For that matter, he and Harry did not have any sort of agreements in place. Harry had come here with his assumptions. His heart lifted as he considered his lover’s words from the previous night. Severus had his chance now, with Harry. Almost he could hope. Realistically, he knew better. A break was a temporary arrangement. Harry might believe he was offering a treat, but in the end he would return to Ginevra, just as he always did. 

And just as he always did, he would leave Severus’s heart trampled behind him.

Unless, of course, Severus could convince him otherwise. He had six months to do so. The dark matter of lust and greed swelled deep within his soul. Yes, he could apply all of his cleverness into seducing the brat. Harry belonged to him, and at last he might have the one he craved. The darkness within turned sharp, thorny, reaching out to the wizard beside him, to sink in its claws and hold him steadfast, digging in its talons and pulling him into its shadowy depths. Severus would tuck him away and keep him forever. Cling to him suffocatingly, devour him whole. Wholly he would be Severus’s, hidden away from the world, his secret treasure. 

There was nothing he wanted more, but it was a fool’s dream.

Birds chirped cheerily outside. The yellow sunlight smiled upon the bed. Harry’s body was warm comfort at his side. He smelled of dried sweat and sex. Black hair was rumpled fetchingly. Severus was well acquainted with every curve, every scar, every inch of that body. Fierce, painful joy pierced him. This, unfolding into forever. This, for the rest of his life. Terrible fantasies plagued his weary mind. Harry, with him, where he belonged. 

Cruel of Harry, to offer such lies. 

“I will owl you when I am finished, if that is satisfactory,” Severus offered. There were six months, after all, of unfettered access to the athletic body at his side. If nothing else, Severus could indulge there, even as the ugliest face of his nature pleaded for more. Hope was an ugly gift. One he would have to punish the boy for.

Harry beamed at him, a childlike glimmer of unadulterated pleasure lighting his eyes. “Sure. Yeah, I’d like that.” Severus quickly jerked himself out of bed, sweeping into the shower next door before the boy could break his heart further with his open adoration.

* * *

Hogwarts gossiped about Albus and Mabel’s breakup for all of a few days. Neither could go to class without their peers leaning in close to ask what had happened. Resolutely, neither responded. Albus would meet curious gazes with coldness, waiting them out until they turned away uneasily. Fire blazed in Mabel’s eyes as she looked challengingly at questioners, offering strained kindness in her refusal to answer. 

A pack of her fellow Hufflepuffs surrounded Mabel protectively at all times. Albus had only Scorpius, but it was Albus himself who stood ready to defend himself against further intrusions. 

“No wonder she broke up with him,” whispered a fourth year Ravenclaw as she scurried away. 

“I heard he cheated on her. Just like a Slytherin!”

“Nah, she was way too nice for him. He got bored.”

“But they used to be so in love,” lamented a fifth year Gryffindor as Albus and Scorpius turned a corner one afternoon. Albus’s jaw twitched. He had never told Mabel he loved her. It wasn’t love. It could have been, might have been, had he stayed any longer.

“He’s a Potter,” snorted Almeda Fawley, a fellow sixth year Slytherin. “He can do better.” From the flirtatious smiles she offered him in the common room, Albus knew just who Almeda thought would be better for him. She was a pretty enough girl. Tall and slim, with alabaster skin, blood red hair down to her waist, and eyes the same purple-gray of storm clouds, she had plenty of suitors herself. She had never shown interest in Albus before, but since his newfound availability, a predatory gleam had entered her eyes.

But she was no Mabel. 

Professor Longbottom was as cordial to him as ever. In fact, he went out of his way to make chit chat during class, which Albus assumed was his way of showing the breakup would have no affect on their relationship. He had to admit, it eased his soul. Neville and Hannah had been a part of his life all growing up. They were like an extra uncle and aunt. Their closeness with the Potters made sense, given all they knew. 

Maybe his parents had told the Longbottoms what befell them over summer. Maybe Neville understood. Albus certainly hoped so. He didn’t want to lose more than just Mabel. 

By the third day, the school’s gossip train had found fresh meat. Velma Thomas and Xavia Zabini had been caught “canoodling” in the Astronomy Tower well past curfew by Headmistress McGonagall herself. Two girls, enemies on the Quidditch field, Gryffindor and Slytherin, it had all the makings of a good drama. Albus was starting to think he was in the clear.

“They say Xavia Imperiused Velma,” Albus contributed cheerily.

“They always think the worst of us, don’t they?” sighed Scorpius. 

“Yes, but it adds to our mystery and prestige!” Besides, Albus thought, no one _really_ thought Xavia used an Unforgivable Curse. Did any proof exist, she would have been expelled and hauled to the Ministry for sure. 

“Is that why you broke up with Mabel? For the mystery and prestige?”

Scorpius tripped over his robes at the sound of Rose Weasley’s voice. Albus rolled his eyes before turning to face his cousin. She had been trailing silently behind them on their way out to Care of Magical Creatures. Rose frowned distastefully at Scorpius as the boy hastily smoothed down his blond hair. Her frizzy red hair whipped across her face in the wind, obscuring her calculating expression. 

“Why does it matter to you, Rose?” Albus asked exasperatedly. 

“She’s a good person,” Rose explained. “And she’s devastated.” A shrewd look crossed her face. “Did you cheat on her?”

Denial twisted his lips, but he clamped them shut. For days he had kept himself from responding to the most ludicrous of accusations. He was not going to falter now at the most innocuous of them. 

His cousin’s expression softened. “I thought not. So, what was it, then?”

“Leave well enough alone,” Albus said, continuing his trek out to Hagrid’s teaching area. 

“Do you actually find her dull, then?” Rose asked. “Because I quite agree, but that’s not a good enough reason to break up with someone. There are more important aspects to a relationship than entertainment value.”

May was not dull by any means, Albus argued internally. Just because she wasn’t mean or quick with her words, because she opted for pleasantries over cleverness, because she cared more for others than herself, none of these were good enough reasons to call a person boring. If anyone took the chance to get to know her, they would find her endlessly fascinating. She had plenty to say, if you gave her the chance to express herself. The placidness of her listener persona gave way to passionate glee for most things. She had a zest for life, did Mabel. Genuinely, she enjoyed people and things and experiences, never taking for granted what the world offered her. 

“One also needs stability in a partnership,” Scorpius added in conversationally. “A partner they can count on. It so happens that I have a very healthy inheritance, as well as a variety of career options…Rose? Where are you going?”

Shaking her head in disgust, Rose sped ahead of them, disappearing into a crowd of Gryffindors once she joined the class. “Good work, Scorp,” Albus said, clapping his disappointed friend on the back. “I thought she’d never drop it.”

Hagrid offered a very colorful lesson on fwoopers that day. The brightly colored birds perched on their professor, in his hair, on his shoulders, one even hanging upside down from his belt. That particular fwooper glared at them, as if daring them to comment on his humiliation. Hagrid explained their mating habits, their lifespan, and other dull tidbits in the first minute. From there he gave a lengthy, enthusiastic lecture about their patterned eggs (collector’s items), their beautiful feathers (used for quills), and a teary-eyed ode to their insanity-causing song. Colorful feathers were carried by the wind, dancing with the fallen leaves in the grass. Albus plucked an orange one from near his foot, idly thinking of it being Mabel’s favorite color as he carefully placed it in the inner pocket of his robes.

“Jus’ a second won’ do no harm,” Hagrid said, lifting the one from his belt. It’s head bulged alarmingly in his grip. Rose cried out, “No!” as Hagrid lifted the Silencing Charm. 

“Silencio!” Albus and Rose shouted, wands out and aimed at the vengeful fwooper. Fearfully the other students screamed as they ran for Hagrid’s nearby hut. The fwooper sang its high pitched song as the spells shot right past him. He hovered, godlike, before them wings spread to their fullest potential. 

And Hagrid snatched him out of midair, gently squeezing his little throat. The lime green bird’s head puffed up again, eyes near popping. Rose quickly cast a successful Silencing Charm on the bird before either Hagrid or the fwooper itself could do more harm. 

Albus placed his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Rose twirled a green feather around in her fingers, then placed it in Albus’s untamed hair. “I know we’re not as close as we used to be, but you can talk to me, you know. If you need to. If you want to.” She offered him a smile.

“Thanks, Rose.”

It would not be to Rose that Albus would unload himself. Still, he toyed with her words as the class headed back to the castle for lunch. It would be nice to confide in Rose, to be good friends again. They had been joined at the hip as children. Both witty, both curious, both self-satisfied. It was their Sortings that divided them, however silly it seemed. House rivalries were childish things. They’d always sworn to be best friends no matter what, whether they both made it into Ravenclaw or neither (the House both preferred when setting out on the Hogwarts Express). Pinky promises between children were no bar to reality. 

“You picked that feather for her, didn’t you?” Scorpius asked.

Confused, his hand drifted up to his hair where the green feather waved like a flag between the black locks. Blushing, he remembered the orange feather still safe in his robes. 

“You can talk to me, too, you know?” his friend offered. “It…it’s something to do with your parents, isn’t it?”

Throat tight, Albus nodded. 

“Thought so,” Scorpius said. “My parents were madly in love. I wasn’t sure Dad would survive when Mum passed away. Makes you really believe in love. I guess…what you’re going through might have the opposite affect. Maybe seeing the ruin it might make you bitter about love.”

“Not bitter,” Albus whispered. _Scared_ , he couldn’t quite say.

“If you say so,” Scorpius said. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know,” Albus relented, walking closer to bump his shoulder against Scorpius’s. “Sometimes I think you’re the only one I can count on.”

Scorpius laughed, the sound pleased, but there was something sad in his face. “That’s not true, Al. Plenty of people would have your back. You just don’t let them.”

Albus considered this as they traipsed into the Great Hall. Over pumpkin juice and turkey sandwiches, Albus despairingly thought of his genetic inheritance. Harry Potter in miniature, at least in appearance; Severus Snape in mind and bearing. At times it seemed as if no one understood him, as if he was eternally out of place. Now he wondered if he didn’t set himself apart. Had he always been this afraid of letting people in? Was it fear of people, or the ordinary? Albus wanted to be greater, craved to be “other”, but also disliked ostracism. Self-imposed ostracism, maybe. 

Slytherin to the core. A true Snape, at that. His pumpkin juice tasted as bitter as the thought.

* * *

Only when Hannah left did the reality sink in. Ginny was in the kitchen, putting the leftover soup in the fridge, cleaning dishes, wiping counters. The suspended disbelief held true until she heard James quietly sobbing from the couch. Ginny dropped her sponge, didn’t bother drying her wet, sudsy hands as she ran to him. He sat there, arms spread helplessly, face twisted in stunned horror. 

“Mum, I don’t know what to do,” he sobbed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She sank onto the couch beside him, pulling him close. “I can’t be a dad. I’m not ready. I’m only eighteen. I’m supposed to play Quidditch. We were supposed to be married and settled first, I was supposed to be older. I didn’t think this could happen. I didn’t know!”

“I know, my baby, shhh,” Ginny cooed, rubbing his back. 

“Teddy’s going to hate me, he’s going to think I did this on purpose,” James groaned. “We didn’t plan this.”

Ginny blinked, thoughts halting, refusing to acknowledge what James let slip. “Teddy?”

“Oh, Mum,” James cried. “I made a mistake.”

* * *

_“I made a mistake.”_ she recalled Harry saying nearly twenty years before. Things were good between them, better than ever. The threat of divorce sobered them, driving them to fight even harder for each other and the life they were building with one another. They’d had their day all planned, one Saturday. They would have brunch at the new local diner, do a little window shopping, then fly together just the two of them. Ginny had her own plans for that night, cooking dinner and serving it in the new negligee she’d recently owl ordered. It fit her like a dream. Harry would lose his mind when he saw her.

“What?” Ginny had asked, unconcerned. She sat her vanity, dabbing perfume on her neck. Harry stood in the doorway of their bedroom clutching a letter, face white. When she caught sight of his reflection in the mirror she frowned, turning in her chair to face him. “Harry?”

“Severus…” Harry licked his lips nervously and lifted the letter. “He says…I took a potion from his stores some months back, for a migraine. Only I grabbed one from the wrong shelf. They looked similar, and I…” His mouth worked soundlessly.

“Are you alright?” Ginny demanded, jumping to her feet. She snatched the letter out of his hand, scanning the contents. “What happened?”

“I’m pregnant,” Harry whispered. His words rang in her ear over and over. She read the words on the parchment over and over. None of them made sense. “Or, I might be. We’ll…have to check. But I…I think I might be.”

Ginny just blinked, handing the letter back to Harry. The majority of the text had been Snape’s familiar jibes against Harry’s intellect, fury over the mistaken use of an experimental potion, and…other words. _How many times have I had my cock in you since then, boy?”_ It was a phrase, an old saying, or a new one. Not one Ginny knew or understood. 

“When we were separated,” Harry admitted, voice barely audible. “I slept with Severus. We weren’t together, and I…I was…I don’t know. I don’t know why I did it, but I did. And…” Fear in those beloved green eyes, the glint of a tear trailing down his cheek. His throat worked as he swallowed. Ginny gaped at him. Still the words had no meaning to her, as if he were speaking gibberish. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll have to ask for help,” Ginny said. The words left her mouth, but she did not feel they were own. She was outside of her body, listening to herself speak. Her soul was numb. Whoever was taking charge now could not be Ginny, for Ginny was trapped in a fog. 

“How? How do I…tell…I don’t…”

“Hannah. She’s training to be a healer,” Ginny's mouth said. “She can help. We’ll swear her to secrecy, her and Neville both. We’ll get answers, and we’ll go from there. We’ll figure this out, Harry.”

* * *

“We’ll figure this out, James,” Ginny promised presently. She held the trembling boy in her arms. “We’ll get through this together.”


	10. Won't Trust the Air With Secrets

Sudsy water sloshed over the sides of the tub as Harry fucked himself on Severus’s cock. Harry’s hands were grasping the edges of the tub behind Severus, while Severus’s own struggled to maintain hold of his hips, skin too slippery for purchase. He stared down where their bodies joined, roaming possessively over the planes of his stomach and chest. No womanly curves here, but sharp edges of an athlete and a man. The toned chest, the wiry black hair trailing down his navel, the jutting red cock, none of it would have been attractive on anyone but Harry. Severus could not help but love and crave every inch of the man on top of him. 

Severus pressed his feet hard against porcelain, bucking his hips upward, drawing a sharp cry from the other wizard’s throat. This was them at their best, surrendering to demands of the flesh. This was what they knew. The auror impaled himself urgently, gasping at every push downward. Severus bit irresistibly at the shapely jaw tempting him. 

“Say something,” Harry groaned. 

Severus pushed his face up, pressing his forehead to Harry’s. Green eyes, hazy with lust, gazed into him. “Do you know what I love, Harry?”

“What?” he gasped.

“Being inside of you,” Severus purred. “You’re always so tight, so hot for me.” Green eyes fluttered shut, teeth biting into lower lip. “Look at me.” Obediently, the green returned. “You were made for me. Every centimeter of you was built for my pleasure.” 

“Fuck,” Harry blurted, movements becoming erratic. Severus gripped him hard, pulling him down flush against him, humping his hips up, pressing himself firmly, slowly in and out of his lover. Harry’s arms moved to encircle his neck. 

“I want to crawl inside of you, body and soul,” Severus crooned into his ear. Harry trembled in his arms, moaning continuously. His voice held power over the auror; Severus had never understood, but he wielded it to his best advantage. “You’re mine, Harry. Wherever you go, whatever you do, every part of you belongs to _me_.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Harry chanted, going still against him as his cock jerked against Severus’s stomach, erupting between them. Severus grunted as the channel around him tightened, pulsing around him, pulling his own orgasm from him before he was ready. 

The water settled calmly around them as they rested against each other. Severus closed his eyes, lazily trailing fingers up and down Harry’s spine. Harry kissed lightly where his face rested against his chest. The night sounds of grasshoppers and frogs outside filled the room where their cries had once drowned them out.

He had been readying for a shower when Harry arrived after work. With a sly grin, the boy suggested a shared bath, which Severus could hardly refuse. It was for the best; he intentionally worked late to avoid dinner and dessert, sharing perhaps a glass of wine before retiring to bed. For days he’d avoided unpleasantness by fucking Harry to sleep. 

“Are we going to avoid talking about this forever?” Harry asked after a while. The bath water was cold and the bubbles dispersed. 

“There is nothing to say,” Severus sighed, rubbing his temples. Thankfully Harry did not lift himself, instead continuing to rest against him. 

“There’s plenty to say,” Harry said quietly. “Is this all there is to us? The sex?”

Severus gently pushed Harry away from him. Harry sat up and scooted back to the other end of the tub, watching him sadly. Severus didn’t dare look at him. The kicked puppy look was more than he could bear. Severus disliked being affected so by the emotions of others.

The sex was all there had ever been between them, all there could have been. From the start, Severus hadn’t dared wish for more, though at the time he might have. Harry and Ginny had been on the path to divorce in those days. For weeks Harry was his, and his alone, sharing him and his life with no one else. Life had taught him that he never got to keep what was precious and good, never having what he wanted most. When Harry informed him he would be reconciling with Ginny, he hadn’t been surprised. Heartbroken, yes, but not surprised. 

“I want to try,” Harry said, sensing Severus would not respond. “I want to see what this can be.”

“It can’t _be_ anything,” Severus said, tone dull and tired. Harry pulled his legs back as Severus stood, stepping out of the bath and drying himself on a soft black towel. 

“You don’t know that,” Harry argued, shifting around to lean over, arms resting on the edges of the tub. 

“I do,” Severus snapped. “Let’s pretend, for a moment, that you were so inclined to divorce your wife. I have nothing to offer you.”

“You have a lot to offer.”

“I don’t. Not to you,” Severus snapped. “I can give you a hard fuck when you’re panting like a whore.” Harry flinched. “I don’t date, Potter.” 

His life had been his own since it began. The marriage between his parents had never been one to model. Lily had captured his heart, carrying it in her pocket as she wed his sworn enemy. Her death shattered him. His commitment to the war effort, his promises to Dumbledore, stole his ambitions and held him hostage in a role he never wanted. Fate had taken an unpleasant boy and crafted him into a cruel man. No one between Lily and Harry had captured his interest. The only release of sexual urges took place in dark bars with equally desperate women. 

What did he know of relationships? Severus was too old, now, too set in his ways to accommodate a partner. Efficiently he dressed himself in his plain black pajamas. Maybe he loved Harry; maybe Harry loved him. It wasn’t enough. The deepest desires of his heart would never fix them, would never make the pieces fit. 

The very thought of it frightened him, though he refused to acknowledge it. 

“You were dating Esther,” Harry spat petulantly as he finally stood, drying off on a spare towel. “Or are you still?”

Severus hadn’t thought of her in days. Even at work he’d avoided her, though unintentionally. He threw himself into his brewing, into his research, wanting to deprive Harry of time to have this very conversation. 

Now he thought of Harry’s interruption of their last meeting, the envious fury blazing like green fire in his face. The biting words, the possessive clutching, evidence of his want. Severus reveled in it. Even then he’d sensed the ready weapon in hand, and now chose to make use of it once more. 

“Esther is more worthy of my effort,” Severus sneered. Towel wrapped low around his hips, Harry advanced angrily. Hand shooting out, he grabbed the boy’s hair and held his head back. “She has more to offer me than you do, boy. You provide a nice variety, but you cannot fulfill my needs. You _lack_ ,” here he flicked one exposed nipple. Harry snatched his wrist, crushing it hard in his grip, “what whets my appetite. You lack her soft breasts and her wet cunt,” here, Harry’s free hand grasped the front of his nightshirt, “and even if you had them you would lack her perspicacity.” Severus laughed rudely at the furrow of brows. “It means she’s intelligent, you stupid child.” The glitter of tears in those eyes, crushing his heart even as it urged the dark, gluttonous being within. “It appears you lack even her composure.”

“You’re right,” Harry croaked, pushing him away. Severus loosened his grip before he pulled out hair. “This would never work.”

Harry Disapparated, abandoning the auror robes he’d arrived in. Severus picked up the scarlet robes, folding them neatly, breathing deeply, using the familiar motions to ease his rattled nerves. The folded garment he set aside as he wished he could set aside his regret. 

There was only one cure for that.

* * *

“I’m sorry to turn up like this,” Harry said, tugging at the borrowed nightshirt he wore. It was a little loose on him, but that suited him just fine. 

“I’m just glad it was me answering the door and not Hannah,” Neville chuckled. “I don’t need you stealing my wife.” Here Neville winced. “Sorry, mate.”

Harry shrugged, though the comment stung. Neville found a spare blanket, draping it over the couch, then transfigured the stolen towel into a pillow. Like an idiot, Harry had left without his wand or his robes. He would retrieve them in the morning once Severus left for work, if he didn’t have the decency to owl them. 

“Thanks,” Harry said, nodding to the set up. “I didn’t want to be alone in that house tonight.”

“Sure, anytime,” Neville nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Harry considered this. Hannah and Neville were good friends, better than he deserved, to offer so much aid in his time of need, and holding their tongues all these years. Despite the knowledge held by the Longbottoms, he and Ginny did not make a habit of confiding in them. A matter of pride, perhaps. 

The few times he had spoken to Neville about this mess, it was always in regards to Ginny. He never actually spoke about his conflicting emotions for Severus. Only once had the man entered their conversations, and it had been Neville to bring him up. 

It was after a fight with Severus after which Harry had turned to his friends. Going to Ron and Hermione might be tempting would they not wonder what was bothering him. Neville would understand, Harry thought, even if he didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t feel the need to pretend. Neville knew of the struggles in his marriage, knew of his attraction to Severus. Harry didn’t think words would be required. Neville accepted his presence, abandoning garden work to brew tea. 

“Fight with Ginny?” Neville asked, no presumption in his manner. If Harry changed the subject, Neville would entertain him. He didn’t have to talk, if he didn’t want to, but he could.

“Not Ginny,” Harry explained, content to leave it at that. There was no need to mention his lover, but his friend would understand, or so he’d thought. 

Neville scoffed, shaking his head. Harry frowned. “Why can’t you leave him alone, Harry?”

“Me?” Harry was shocked. “He’s the one-”

“I don’t care about that,” Neville said, pushing away his own tea. He frowned seriously at Harry. “Are you sleeping with him again?”

Harry’s mouth worked uselessly, panicked and unsure of how to respond. Finally he slumped his shoulders and dropped his gaze, mixing more honey into his tea to busy his hands. 

“Damn it, Harry,” Neville swore. “What is wrong with you?”

“You don’t understand,” Harry muttered.

“You’re damn right, I don’t understand! You have a loving wife at home. Ginny deserves better than this,” Neville told him seriously. “I really thought better of you.”

The worst part of the whole interaction had been the disappointment in Neville’s voice at the end. Shame had burned him then, soaking in it as he sipped his too sweet tea. Neville didn’t drink his own, instead fiddling with the cup or stirring the cooling liquid. Eventually Hannah entered, two year old Mabel on her hip. Both witches grinned at him. Hannah used her free hand to grab her wand, magically slicing and serving lemon poppyseed cake to both wizards.

“What do you see in him, anyway? He’s as nasty as he’s always been,” Neville asked as Hannah fixed Mabel some juice. Hannah’s pleasant expression faded as she glanced between them.

Aware of the audience, Harry nibbled on the cake, considering whether or not to speak. Severus’s words were thorns piercing his heart, sharp even now, hours later. He would never be charming, or even kind. He was as ugly on the inside as he was on the outside, he thought spitefully. What did that say about him? It embarrassed him, he had to admit, how enthralled he was by their ex professor. Let alone being so deeply in love with him. 

“Ginny and I share something special,” Harry explained. He poured more tea for himself and held the hot cup between his palms. “We’re partners. It’s like we’re one person, sometimes, the way we move together, work together, one well-oiled machine. I could not ask for a better wife, or a better mother for my children.” It was a punch to the gut, knowing she was at home now, alone with two children under the age of five, two rambunctious boys. Under the pretense of working an extra shift, he had gone to Severus, throwing himself into the man, ending in a spectacular blowout. Harry barely remembered what had started it all. A comment about the children, he thought, but he couldn’t be sure. 

“But Severus…he understands me. In ways even Ginny can’t. In ways no one can,” Harry confessed. “He’s inside of me. He’s in my gut.” Briefly it crossed his mind, how the words might be taken, but neither Hannah or Neville laughed. They were listening intently. “He’s always there. Even when I stay away from him, I can feel him there. It’s a tether; it pulls at me. I…I could resist, if I wanted, but I don’t want to. I want to…” He flushed here, realizing how he sounded. How pathetic it was. “But I know it’s wrong. I know I should stay away.”

Neville nodded. “You should.” He sighed. “You have to choose between them eventually. I’d forgive it if you chose him, if you would only decide. It’s not fair to him, either, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” It wasn’t right. He had to make a choice. But how did you choose between the two people you loved most? When losing either of them would be like losing a limb?

Some Gryffindor he made, cowardly avoiding a real decision. Even when he quit Severus’s bed, he couldn’t quit his presence. He couldn’t quit thinking about him. Always the boys were his excuse, wanting them to have a relationship with their father, whether or not they knew it. It wasn’t right to Severus, to deprive him of his own sons. Secretly, Harry took selfish enjoyment of what little contact they had these past several years. 

Even when the children were at school, he and Ginny continued their Sunday visits. They were still friends, Harry would assure his wife. Just friends, finally. Ginny would join him, play chaperon, barely maintaining civility with Severus. They were never enjoyable visits, just the three of them, but Harry always looked forward to Sundays. 

“Ginny and I are taking a break, did you know?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. She’s been talking to Hannah,” Neville replied.

Harry nodded. “Severus and I have…” He cleared his throat. Neville laughed. “We’ve been fucking, but that’s about it. Part of that’s my fault. That’s the easy part, for us. But I don’t want that to be all. I want to know if…if this can work. I want to know what it would be like, if we were together. Isn’t that the whole point of this?”

“It is,” Neville agreed. “At least from my understanding.”

“Right. Only Severus doesn’t see it that way,” Harry ranted. “He was mean. He’s always mean. But he won’t even try.” Embarrassed by the tightness of his throat and the burning of his eyes, he turned from his friend to rub his face. “He’s got some girlfriend now. She’s smart enough for him. Has all the lady bits he likes. He was sure to rub that in my face.”

“Wait, he has an actual girlfriend?” Neville asked, surprised.

“Near enough,” Harry said. 

“Hmm,” Neville said.

Harry sighed and flopped down on the couch. “I know. I’m a right arse, aren’t I? If he’s moved on, I should just let him go. Right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Yeah. And I’m being selfish, wanting him to drop everything to give me a chance. When I can’t even guarantee it will go anywhere,” he carried on dully. The truth of it ate at him. When had he become such a selfish bastard? Always wanting to have his cake and eat it, too. Never fair to Ginny, never fair to Severus, even now. Freedom had come too late, and he would never know what they could be. Vaguely he was aware of the tears streaking down his face, of Neville joining him on the couch. 

“Yeah,” Neville said gently. “You’re in love with him. It hurts. I get that. But you can’t blame him for moving on, finally.”

“I know,” Harry agreed. It wasn’t right for Severus to be screwing around on Esther, if they were a couple. Even if they weren’t, Harry couldn’t keep giving himself to Severus when all it would be was sex. Funny that now - now that he and Ginny were apart - now he would have to learn how to let Severus go for good. “Do you have any firewhisky?”

“I already had Hannah lock up the goods,” Neville said, patting his shoulder. “But you can have some cake. Hannah made a black forest this evening.” 

“Cake is good.”

* * *

“I apologize for the late intrusion,” Severus said, accepting a glass of wine from Esther. She wore a thick pink bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, hair in a towel on top of her head. Esther had been fresh from a shower when Severus knocked on her door. It was a shame he was so recently satisfied; he entertained the idea of bedding her, if only to get the taste of Harry out of his mouth. Drive away the wizard’s touch, his kiss, the smell of him. Punish him further. It would drive him insane to know what he could do to Esther; he would give her his very best just to spite the brat. 

“I don’t mind,” Esther smiled. “I don’t get the impression you are looking for sex.”

“I certainly wouldn’t mind it,” Severus commented. All he required was an aphrodisiac. If he was lucky, he might make due without one. “Auror Potter is an infuriating creature, and I rather hoped for more stimulating company.”

“Infuriation isn’t stimulating?” Esther teased.

Sadly, it was, and in more ways than Esther knew. Harry got under his skin the way no one ever had. He only thought he had known passion, with the ardor Lily had inspired in him; how strange it would be her son to drive him to the depths of madness. How disgusting was he, to go from lusting for the mother to lusting for the son? 

Esther sipped her wine. “I had noticed you’ve been especially busy of late. Are you aiding the Auror Department?”

“Nothing I am free to speak on.” He had already considered that very excuse. Convenient for Esther to arrive to the conclusion herself. 

“Far be it from me to intrude upon important work,” Esther said. She stepped set her glass on the mantle beside them to slide her arms around his middle. “When you need a reprieve, you are always welcome here.” Shyly, she pressed a kiss to his neck. “You may stay the night, if you like.” Severus’s free arm wound around her slender form, hand sliding down to caress womanly curves. This body was soft, welcoming. He could sink his teeth into this generous flesh. Severus knew all of the places to touch to make her scream. She was a violin, and he could play her to perfection. All of the possibilities flashed through his mind’s eye. 

“That is an appealing offer, I must confess,” he breathed into her ear, setting his glass beside hers. Her hair was thin and dry where he combed his fingers through, but long. Her lips were equally thin and dry pressing against his, but she tasted of wine where her tongue teased his. Severus reacquainted himself with every delicious sample Harry would never have, delighting himself in every wound he had dug into his lover tonight. Esther was too distracted to notice the aphrodisiac he sipped. And it was with Harry in mind that he set himself to the task of showing Esther pleasure she had never before known.

* * *

After work for days, Ginny would go straight to James’s flat to fix dinner. While James considered his options, he opted for lighter topics. They spoke of Quidditch, of music, of family gossip, any subject but the one that mattered most. Ginny allowed this. She had her own thoughts, but this was James’s life and his decision to make. Instead she offered what support she could, feeding him, filling his home with goods. Now he had a nice chair in the living room, cupboards full of food, ample dinnerware in his cabinets, decorative items to give a more homey feel. Today she’d brought over candles, vases, and figurines to set out on tabletops and bookshelves. 

“That smells good, Mum,” James said cheerfully as he entered the kitchen. 

“Fisherman’s pie, your favorite,” Ginny told him. A wave of her wand set a knife to slicing the bread. Another spell had a whisk working batter on the counter. “And cherry bakewell for dessert.”

“You’re the best!” James grinned. Pulling out his own wand, he set the table untidily and set a jug of pumpkin juice to pour itself into two glasses. Household spells were never his strong suit. The juice sloshed over the sides. 

“Oh, sit down, Jay,” Ginny fussed. A spell of her own cleaned the mess and floated the glasses to the table. In her own home, his messy spellwork had been a point of frustration. Here, in his home, it was charming. Ginny could not decide if it was because of the change in location, or the fact of their tenuous relationship. 

James was still her sweet boy, regardless of outside circumstances. Who could resist that impish smile? Teddy should have, Ginny thought to herself. James should have known better than to chase a taken wizard, but he came by it honestly. Ginny didn’t have it in her to blame him for any of it. 

By the time dinner was served, dessert was put in the oven to bake as they ate. James raved for her cooking prowess. None of the children preferred her cooking, so the compliments were flattering. Lies, of course. Her fisherman’s pie was average, at best. It was the gesture that mattered. 

“I was thinking, James,” Ginny began as she summoned the bakewells from the oven. She waited until his mouth was full of the tart before saying, “You should probably talk to Teddy about this.” James choked on his tart. “That’s his baby, too. He helped you get into this.”

“I can’t just pretend it isn’t happening?” James laughed weakly. 

“Birth would be a nasty shock,” Ginny said dryly. 

“Yeah,” James sighed. “I don’t know.” He looked so small as he muttered, “I’m scared.”

“I know,” Ginny said. “I wish I could take it all away for you. But I can’t. I’ll be here for you. Always. But Teddy is the father. He should be involved. He deserves the chance to be involved.”

James slowly chewed his tart, staring into space. Ginny leaned back in her seat, just watching him. Only eighteen years old, a naive child. She could kill Teddy for seducing him. She could kill Harry and Snape, for it was them she blamed for his falling into bed with a taken man. It was their sins James was paying for. Some part of her knew James was at fault for his own actions. More convenient for her to target anyone else. It didn’t have to be fair. It was all done in the safety of her own mind, after all.

“I’ll think about it,” James eventually agreed. 

“Good.” Ginny smiled contentedly. James nibbled distractedly on his dessert. This was the legacy he had been born to. No, not James’s sin, but Harry’s and Snape’s. And Teddy’s, too. But Teddy still deserved the truth, and maybe just maybe he would make the right choice. Not Snape’s choice.

* * *

The acid green ear suctioned to the wall connected to the radio at Pansy Parkinson’s desk. Ginny and James’s conversation echoed from the speakers. Pansy smirked, nibbling at the tip of her quill. It was just her luck as _Daily Prophet_ correspondent when she found an available flat next door to Gideon Crumb’s daughter. Chrysanthemum Crumb never knew how all of her indiscretions became public knowledge. Pansy got lucky a second time when Harry Potter’s eldest moved next door. Pansy hadn’t known what a jackpot it would turn out to be. James Sirius Potter - pregnant with Teddy Lupin’s child! For that had to be the Teddy mentioned by Ginny. If not, it would still make an excellent news story. 

On her parchment, Pansy crossed out Teddy’s name. No, she would save that revelation for a rainy day. Harry Potter’s son getting himself knocked up was a big enough news story on its own. Front page worthy, even. Humming to herself, Pansy began scribbling a rough draft for her article. She was definitely getting a raise after this!


	11. The Never-Ending Ache of Love and Sorrow

_ HARRY POTTER’S ELDEST SON WITH CHILD _

_It looks as if the Falmouth Falcons will have to find a new Chaser - new recruit James Sirius Potter is pregnant. James is the 18 year old son of Harry Potter, who defeated the Dark Lord twenty four years ago. He is a recent Hogwarts graduate, alumnus of Gryffindor House, the same house his father hailed from. In school, James garnered special attention due to his prowess on the Quidditch field, a talent inherited from both parents. His mother, Ginevra Potter, is a former Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, and current Quidditch correspondent for this very paper! Certainly James was on the path to stardom. Why give it up to become a young father?_

_“James is not gay!” says former house mate, Giovanna Glossop. “He dated half the girls our year, you know.”_

_“James was always a ladies man,” agrees old school friend, Brian Boot. “I never saw him look twice at another bloke!”_

_So how did James find himself in such a predicament? His own godfather, Severus Snape, is the very inventor of the potion that would allow his pregnancy. Did he acquire the potion for his own use? It would certainly be available to him. Or was the very potion invented by his godfather used against him?_

_Whatever the cause, one thing is for sure - James Sirius will not be joining the Falcons this season._

* * *

The morning edition of the _Prophet_ was clutched in Teddy Lupin’s hand, waved wildly beneath James’s nose. “Is this true? Are you pregnant?”

Teddy had barged into the flat unannounced as James sleepily slurped a bowl of cereal. He had only been out of bed for a few minutes, and generally needed a good hour or two to be properly awake. James blinked confusedly at white-faced Teddy. “What?” he asked dumbly. 

Teddy threw the paper on the table. “Are you pregnant, James?”

“Oh. That,” James said. “What?” Hastily he grabbed the paper, eyes flicking across the article. His own face paled to the same chalky color of Teddy’s. “Oh Merlin. Oh no. No, no, no. How did they know?”

“You’re pregnant. You really are,” Teddy said. “How could you?”

“What?”

“I didn’t know you’d taken the Praegnatio!” Teddy snapped. “What the hell? You know I’m engaged! And you! You’re only eighteen! We can’t take care of a baby!”

“I know, I didn’t-” James began. 

“Did Severus brew it for you, or did you just sneak it out of his stores? I like to think he wouldn’t be party to this, but who knows, with your family,” Teddy spat bitterly. Mingled with his anger were hurt and fear. This startled James. He had not prepared for this. He wasn’t awake enough to respond to this. “This is sick, James. I can’t believe you. I really thought better of you.”

“I…Teddy, wait!” James flew out of his chair, knocking it over as Teddy walked out of the flat. “I didn’t do this, I swear!”

“Then how else did it happen?” Teddy demanded. “Is it like the article said? Did someone slip it to you? Why would someone do that?”

“No, it wasn’t…Please, Teddy, just listen.”

“No. No, Jayme, I can’t,” Teddy said, raising his hands to fend him off. “I always knew you would do anything to get what you wanted - but this is a new low. Even for you.” Before James could get in another word, Teddy Disapparated.

The noise of it drew neighbors to their doors, peeking their heads out nosily, one fussing to keep the noise down. The pug-faced witch next door to him smiled sympathetically. “Lover’s spat, darling?”

“N-no…Just…a misunderstanding, is all,” James stammered, quickly fleeing into the privacy of his own flat. Locking the door, he leaned back against the wood, sliding down to the floor. How? How did anyone know? The only person he’d told was his mum, and she wouldn’t have told a soul! Or Hannah Longbottom, who performed the test? No. No, they wouldn’t, neither of them. Would they? “Oh, Mum,” James muttered, “I need you now.”

* * *

Teddy paid little mind to where he was going. He may have Splinched himself had his mind not eventually settled on Diagon Alley. Without a proper destination in mind, he roamed the busy streets, lost in thought. Already he regretted yelling at James, though he knew he had every right to be upset. 

Sure, he had cheated on Victoire. That was wrong. He knew it was wrong, and he regretted that, as well. That hardly gave James the right to trick Teddy into getting him pregnant. If James had a crush on him all this time, perhaps the thought crossed his mind that he might trap Teddy with a child. It might work, Teddy knew. He had an obligation to his unborn child, didn’t he? 

His skin crawled at the thought. A child! He and Victoire hadn’t planned on having children together any earlier than thirty! They were still much too young. They had a lifetime ahead of them for that. They would marry eventually and have children later, when they were both properly settled and ready. 

Teddy wasn’t ready now. James certainly wasn’t ready. What could he have been thinking? Sure he was reckless, sure he was selfish, but to this extreme? Teddy ducked into an alleyway, stomach churning, head spinning. 

How was he going to tell Victoire? Or his grandmother? Or Harry and Ginny? Teddy rubbed a shaky hand over his face. How was he going to take care of a child when he could barely take care of himself? 

“You alright there, sonny?” called a concerned voice. It was an elderly witch weighed down by shopping bags. Teddy rubbed his wet eyes and turned to beam at her.

“Yes, ma’am, I’m fine,” Teddy laughed. “Lunch disagreed with me, is all. Do you need help with that?”

Her name was Mrs. Shirley Sheffield, he learned as he carried her bags for her, and she owned a fascinating antique shop. Other matters could wait, Teddy decided. The baby wouldn’t be due for ages, and there was tea waiting for him at Mrs. Sheffield’s cottage. Maybe, once he was bored of the sweet shop, he might try his hand at clerking for an antique shop.

* * *

“Albus!” called Scorpius, running to catch up as Al strolled across the courtyard. “Did you see the paper?” he asked, nervously looking at the other students around them. 

Albus found himself at the center of attention once again, though not for anything he had done this time. It was his being James’s brother that caused them to stare. Nearby the Odell twins, Opal and Onyx, drew their heads together, whispering excitedly. Albus rolled his eyes.

“You can’t trust the _Prophet_ , Scorp,” Albus said. “Remember when they accused Aunt Hermione of colluding with Shackelbolt to outlaw pureblood births? Or when they said my mum blackmailed Oliver Wood into throwing the Puddlemere-Holyhead game in…2011, was it?” He shook his head. “I can’t tell you the number of falsehoods they’ve printed about dad over the years - back in his schooldays, even!” Scorpius looked unconvinced. Albus couldn’t help but laugh. “James is gay, whatever his schoolmates say. But he wouldn’t get himself pregnant - and I doubt anyone would spike his juice with it. Our dad’s Head Auror, for Merlin’s sake. What sort of idiot would risk that?”

“I guess,” Scorpius said, still doubtful as he folded the paper and tucked it under his arm. The Odell twins giggled behind them as they continued walking. 

The furor would die down eventually, as it always did. Eventually the truth would come out, the _Prophet_ would come under fire again, and everyone would have to find something else to gossip about. Albus had more important things to worry about, such as the Charms essay that was due by the end of the week. He had some daring insights into the Fidelius Charm, and he was debating whether Professor Flitwick would dock points or not. 

Charms flew right out of his mind as they neared the lake. Beneath his favorite tree stood Mabel Longbottom, laughing with a seventh year boy. “Scorp, do you know that Ravenclaw?”

“Uh oh,” Scorpius said as he looked where Albus pointed. “Um, that’s Uriah Smith.”

“Oh,” Albus said, steering them away, though keeping Mabel and Uriah in sight. “What do you know about him?”

“Bit of a prat, really,” Scorpius said. “Braggart, nothing to show for any of it. I don’t think he has any friends. Maybe she feels bad for him?”

“Right. Sounds like May,” Albus muttered, sitting in the grass. Blindly he pulled his books from his bag, never looking away from her. Uriah Smith was too close to her, but she didn’t shy away from him. Was she always so engrossed by the people she listened to, or was Uriah really that fascinating? 

“Uh, Al, I don’t think you want to -”

The book Albus had been opening bit down on his hand. “Bloody hell,” Albus hissed, shaking his arm to loosen the hold of the _Monster Book of Monsters_. He hadn’t been paying any mind to the book he was opening, even when it meant having to unbind the rope tied around it. Onlookers laughed as he fell onto his back, Scorpius grabbing his arm and the book to stroke down its spine. Across the lawn Mabel was standing, hands clasped as she shifted from foot to foot, watching anxiously. Once the book was calm and open on the ground, Albus sat up, watching her watch him. Mabel waved awkwardly as she rejoined Uriah on the ground. 

“Are they dating, do you think?” Albus asked his friend.

It was Opal Odell, walking by with her sister, who answered. “Uriah? No. It’s Emanuel Goldstein you should worry about.” The girls giggled and carried on as Albus whipped around towards Scorpius.

“Who’s Emanuel Goldstein?” Albus demanded. Scorpius just sighed and reclined back against the tree. “Come on. I’m only curious!”

* * *

For an hour, Ginny waited in Pansy’s cubicle at The Daily Prophet office. Pansy had just taken her lunch when Ginny arrived, calmly sitting in the chair before her desk. Editors and reporters and the occasional source wandered by, eying her nervously. Ginny smiled and waved to them. Inside, she was anything but calm and collected. Quivering, blind rage bottled within. A red haze crept into her vision if she thought too long on her purpose here. It was lucky for her the office bustled so. The audience kept her grounded. 

Pansy returned a few minutes late. That was fine. She wore garish pink robes with lipstick to match. Dark hair was cut into an unflattering bob, a new haircut. The pink manicure was new, too. This was a statement. Pansy thought she was coming up in the world. The new Rita Skeeter. Ginny fondly recalled what had happened to Rita Skeeter, beetle in a jar, career in tatters. 

“Mrs. Potter!” Pansy cooed. “What a surprise!”

“I somehow doubt that,” Ginny said, tapping her index finger on the article spread across her desk. “Why did you publish this about my son?”

“That should be obvious,” Pansy said, seating herself at her desk. “Because it’s true. Well, in part.” Pansy examined her long, shapely nails as she spoke. “I did omit the part about Teddy. I thought I would save that for the Friday edition.”

Shocking cold replaced the heat of her anger. “What?”

“You and Jamesy really should know that walls have ears,” Pansy grinned. Ginny blinked. They were in the privacy of James’s apartment! Ginny should have considered any number of spells, any means of spying. Their mere relation to Harry meant they always had to be careful. James was too young, too naive, to think about it. Ginny should have known better. “Why I, innocent neighbor, happened to overhear a touching conversation between mother and son. I do have bills to pay, Mrs. Potter. What was I to do?”

Pansy turned away from Ginny, plucking up her quill and jotting notes. A second quill lingered nearby, jumping forward to mark corrections in red ink. Ginny watched her for several minutes, unable to find an out. 

“Please don’t bring Teddy into this,” Ginny pleaded quietly. 

Pansy gaped dramatically at her. “And deprive our dear readers of their new favorite series? No, that would not do.”

“What do you want?” Ginny asked. Terrible, to come down to this. There was nothing she or Harry wouldn’t do for their son and godson. Whatever the cost for silence, they would pay it. For so long they had safeguarded their own secrets. They had protected them from their own children, from her parents and siblings, from friends, from anyone but was necessary. Even in the crumbling of their family, their secret had been maintained. 

Now, because of one mistake, the consequences of which he not only suffered, but had yet to come to terms with, James was being publicly humiliated. How could he cope with the world’s gaze upon him? 

“Nothing you can give,” Pansy giggled. “What I want can only be provided by my next article. Keep your eyes peeled on Friday. You won’t want to miss it!”

No choice now but to leave. Tempting, to hex Pansy. It wouldn’t do any good. Instead Ginny left, head held high, ignoring the stares and the whispers. She was going home early, she told her editor. She had to find James. Ginny could do nothing for him, but be present. She was his mother. She was meant to protect him. And here she had failed.

* * *

Leaving the Longbottom residence early, Harry threw himself into work, all day and well into the night. The article regarding James was a hot topic that Harry summarily dismissed. Coworkers well knew Harry’s thoughts on most news sources being untrustworthy, and many agreed that it was too far-fetched to be true. Harry set his secretary to finding what legal action could be taken against Pansy Parkinson, if any, and took the time to write his son a letter, assuring him matters would blow over. Whether James wanted to speak to him or not, Harry wanted to reassure him. Harry was tempted to pay him a visit, but knew he would be unwelcome. Instead he focused on his work, and work alone, allowing himself no time to reflect on his mess of a life. 

“You should go home soon,” Hermione popped her head in to say. “James needs you now.”

“Oh, Ginny’s with him,” Harry lied. “I’ll be wrapping up soon, don’t worry.”

Hermione tsked and shook her head. “You’re working too hard, Harry. And that’s coming from me.” She left after that. The rest of the aurors left not long after. Harry stayed up for hours yet, considering the article. Pansy Parkinson. He remembered her from school. She had been a nasty liar back then, and had made a career of it after graduation. Harry doubted they could legally do anything, but one could hope. At worst they waited out the storm. Eventually the truth would come out, if not due to lack of weight gain, then certainly due to the lack of a baby at the end of nine months. No one who mattered would believe that garbage, anyway. 

By one in the morning, Harry transfigured his chair into a cot and settled himself in. Better this than alone in Grimmauld Place. He never could bear to be rid of it, his inheritance from Sirius. Occasionally it was used for large gatherings, but it was much too large and quiet to be alone there. Even Walburga Black’s screaming portrait couldn’t chase away the loneliness. 

The clock on the wall said it was half past four in the morning when he was roused. Dark circles beneath the black eyes watching him, cool fingers stroking his cheek. Sleepily, Harry grabbed the hand, pressing a kiss to the palm. An intake of breath. Lips brushing his. 

“You weren’t home,” Severus whispered. “Why are you here?”

“Didn’t want to be alone,” Harry replied, sleepiness drawing out the truth. 

“Nor did I.” That voice was rich and smooth, a velvet caress to his ears. When Severus kissed him again, Harry tasted wine on his tongue. More awake now, he knew he should stop him. He did not want to solely be a vessel for release. Skilled tongue stroked the roof of his mouth, dexterous hands parting his robes to stroke down his chest. In the darkness, he could almost pretend it was a dream. What was one more night, if he could chalk it up to exhaustion? He shivered and sighed as Severus nibbled down his jaw to breathe softly into his ear. “I want to make love to you, Harry.”

Maybe it was a dream. “Yes.”

A dip as Severus joined him on the cot, kneeling over him to divest him of clothing. Harry shifted enough to allow the robe to be tossed aside. He closed his eyes against the penetrating stare as Severus slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Greasy hair trailed against his skin as Severus lowered his face, tongue tracing his collarbone. It was the biting kiss to a pectoral that had his eyes opening, a distressed noise escaping him. Suddenly he was thinking of his lack of breasts, his lack of what Severus needed. “Shhh,” Severus whispered into his skin, mouth working its way down his stomach now. Harry was half-hard, and too aware of it, Severus’s words from the other night loud in his head. Teeth nipping at his pelvis. Nerve endings were alive, alert, overreacting to every touch. He trembled helplessly.

“I’m still a man, you know,” Harry whispered as Severus unzipped his trousers, tugging them down.

“Yes, I had noticed.” Severus slid his tongue slowly up the underside of his cock. 

“Oh, god,” Harry moaned, grasping at the pillow beneath his head. Patient, maddening licks to the head, probing against the slit, lapping away the fluid gathering there. His eyes were wide open now, staring up at the ceiling overhead, unsure that he could last if he looked down. Wet heat engulfed him, sucking at his aching hardness. “Fuck,” he gasped. “Severus.”

Severus worked slowly, unceasingly, up and down, sucking another inch down each time. The suction of his mouth was loud and obscene in the quiet of the night. Harry threw one arm over his mouth, biting into it to keep from keening pitifully. There was no one to hear but Severus, but Harry was terrified to reveal too much. He’d already shown too much of himself. The intimacy was as unbearable as the pleasure. He thought of asking him to stop, but he hit the back of Severus’s throat and couldn’t think anymore. 

Slick fingers probed his entrance. Harry parted his legs instinctively. His vision went white as he was suspended on the brink of release. His manhood popped free from Severus’s mouth then. “Not yet,” came the amused voice, fingers working him open. 

“Tease,” Harry rasped. 

“Indeed.”

That dark gaze still pierced right through him, even as he turned himself away from it. Expert fingers delved deeply inside of him, massaging those inner walls, carefully avoiding the area that would push him over. Carefully he was pulled back from the edge, and he rubbed a trembling hand over his face. A whispered spell and the rustling of clothes, bare skin now pressed against his. Severus’s cock was hot and heavy on his thigh, already leaking. 

“Hurry,” Harry pleaded. 

Strong hands parted his thighs further as he settled between them, blunt head pressing between his cheeks. “Look at me,” Severus instructed, and Harry did, meeting that intense gaze as Severus slid home. Both exhaled sharply. Harry was full, stretched tightly around the invading member. Harry wrapped his legs around slim hips as Severus dropped his hands to either side of him, hovering closely above him. Stringy black hair was a curtain around them both, hiding them from reality. 

“I visited Esther the other night,” Severus confessed as he drove deeper inside. Wrong to have his outraged gasp turn pleasured. “I could only think of you.”

“Bastard,” Harry whispered as Severus’s hands found his, lacing their fingers together. 

“Did you ever think of me when you were with your wife?” Severus asked on another pointed stroke. Eagerness in that gaze, as if he already knew the answer.

“Yes.” He tightened his legs, using his grip to urge him on. Severus refused to be hurried, instead burying himself as deeply as possible and holding himself there, capturing his mouth in a gentle kiss he would not deepen. Harry whimpered needfully until Severus rolled his hips into him. His cock was nudging that spot now, hitting it relentlessly on every inward stroke. Harry surrendered to his lover, clinging to him as the pressure was built slowly and steadily. He was already close, so when Severus whispered, “Come for me, Harry,” he couldn’t help but obey. Severus followed right after, groaning softly into his sweaty neck. 

When Severus pulled out of him, he fell to his side by Harry, pulling him into his arms. The cot was too small, and neither bothered spelling it larger. Harry didn’t mind the tangled limbs, or resting his head on Severus’s chest, listening to his heart drumming against his ear. Only when it resumed its normal rhythm did Harry rest his chin there, peering up at the man. Severus was already watching him.

“Why did you come here?” Harry asked.

Consideration. “When I was with Esther, I wanted to rid myself of you. Once I was done, I very much regretted it.” Hesitation, now. “There is…no one like you, Harry.”

The words soothed the beast, but irritated the open wound. “We can’t keep doing this.”

Severus pulled him nearer, kissing the top of his head. “We’ve done this for almost twenty years.” Harry had never thought of it quite that way. He’d celebrated twenty two anniversaries with Ginny. He’d never thought to count the years with Severus. Nearly two decades of a tragic love story. “It’s always worked.”

“It hasn’t,” Harry argued. “We just did it anyway.”

Severus soothingly stroked his back as Harry cuddled close, arms wrapping tightly around him. If this was the last night, he would make the most of it. Committing to memory the smell of his musk, the taste of his clammy skin, the dark caress of his voice. 

“I’ve loved you longer than that,” Severus confessed a half hour later. Harry was starting to drift but at the sound of his voice he came back to the present. “I am quite accustomed to taking what I can, in dark corners and stolen moments. Never have I entertained the possibility of possessing what I most covet. Now here you are, holding out hope on a string, dangling it before me.” Severus did not look at him. He held Harry’s head to his chest, keeping Harry from looking himself. Harry did not dare disrupt this fantastical confession, allowing what ease he could give. “I could not bear to have you and lose you, not like that.”

Harry swallowed around a lump in his throat. He nodded to show he understood then closed his eyes. Severus did not comment on the tear that dropped to his chest. As he fell into uneasy sleep, he thought he heard, “I love you” murmured into his hair.


	12. The Straightforward Pathway Had Been Lost

Severus did not sleep that night. Instead he held his lover, soothed by the quiet snoring. Had he been so inclined to sleep, he would not have been able to, the way his mind turned. As it happened, he was not so inclined. Instead he was content to savor the feel of warm, bare skin against his and the fluffy hair tickling his nose. 

Harry had been on his mind all day, though he fought to dispel him. Several batches of his dragon pox experiment had to be tossed and begun again for the distraction of him. Severus remembered chasing away the wizard’s taste and touch by drowning himself in the most convenient availability. 

Esther deserved better than that. Always he had preferred a woman’s touch, but every swipe of tongue and fingers through the slippery folds of her body felt alien; he could think only of the silken flesh of Harry’s manhood, the heat of it in his mouth, the weight in his hand. He lavishly worshiped breasts with vindictive thoughts for the cruel words spat at Harry. Every minute spent with Esther was a victory against the man he loved. Severus was too aware of what this would do to Harry, and he reveled in it, at the time. What could he tell Harry of this night? Explaining to him how Esther felt in his hands, how right and good it felt to be inside of her. The devastation such vivid details would incur. 

The crude plot for misery turned at some point during the proceedings, thoughts of wounding his lover to thoughts of how the jealousy might drive them to passions. In the end, as he spilled himself inside of Esther, it was green he saw and the ghost of Harry’s lustful moans echoing in his ear. 

Esther deserved better, yes, but he considered this only briefly. It was Harry he was consumed by. It was the regret of washing the taste of him from his mouth, and the need to taste him again, to lose himself in the younger man. Forty-two years old, but still “the boy” to him, still young and vibrant as ever. 

All night he’d held himself at bay, consuming too much wine and laying in bed for hours, slumber eluding him. It was in the early hours of the morning he’d gone searching Grimmauld Place and, finding it empty, turning instead to the Ministry of Magic. He should have known Harry would be here from the start. He never could stand the large loneliness of that house, the tragic loss of his godfather staining ancient walls. 

“I am sorry,” he murmured to the sleeping form. The starving shadow pressed against his flesh, forcing his fingers to curl tightly around his lover. Harry stirred, handsome face twisted unhappily, snores turning to a distressed snort. Severus rubbed his back. He knew what troubled the wizard. It was his fault. Severus regretted the necessitation of honesty. He had to protect himself. Harry knew not the power he held. 

It would wreck him to truly possess Harry for any length of time, only to lose him once again to the red haired beauty he’d given his name to, sworn his life and love to. Severus yearned to leave his mark, to bind him hand and foot, to cast some spell that would guarantee his fidelity. Severus had no clue where to begin. He was not romantic or charming or well-versed in the art of relationships. Six months was not enough time to learn, not enough time to ensure Harry’s everlasting love. 

Harry belonged with Ginny, Severus knew, however he felt about the matter. They were good together. In photos they were a good-looking couple, but it was more than just looks in which they suited one another. Harry was as straight as Severus was, as far as he knew, and Ginny could provide for him sexually in ways Severus could not. More than looks. More than attraction. They shared values. They desired their white-picket fence, the institution of marriage, the trials of parenthood. Traditional values of family. They were both Gryffindors, both brave and adventurous and athletic. They shared interests in food and Quidditch and the picture-perfect image they showed the world. 

This tie between Harry and himself was an anomaly; unexplainable and corrupt. Unbreakable, as well, for Severus had attempted to sever this bond. His hatred for Harry Potter had never died, only changed form. Severus wanted to be free of him, did not want this misery to follow him to his grave. He despised this weakness in himself. Despised the aching of his lonely heart. Despised the very joy Harry offered furtively in stolen moments. Severus hated him with the whole of his being, hand in hand with the overwhelming devotion he commanded. 

In the darkness of Harry’s office, Severus didn’t have the energy to hate him. Exhausted by his love, Severus lay exposed, and glad for Harry’s obliviousness to the fact. 

When the hour hand moved to six, Severus untangled himself carefully from the octopus grip, spelling his own clothes onto his body, then Harry’s robes onto his sleeping form. Best not to have any early risers stumbling upon their Head Auror disrobed in his office. Minutes stretched by as Severus stared down at the wizard, knowing he had to leave, unsure he had the strength to. Eventually he crept out of the office, Disapparting midway down the hall where he’d first appeared, not wanting the noise to disturb Harry’s rest.

* * *

At eight Harry woke to the hustle and bustle of the department outside, tired greetings between aurors as they arrived. Harry scrambled off of his cot, in mad search of the red robes he was surprised to find himself wearing. Thank Merlin for Severus’s forethought! Harry hastily transfigured the cot back into his chair and sat behind his desk, doing nothing for a time. Sleep had done him no good. He felt more exhausted than ever.

“Good morning, Harry! Did you get in early?” Ron asked, peeking into the office.

“Yeah,” Harry said, racking his brain for some excuse. “Was hoping to have heard back from the legal department.”

“Ah,” Ron said sympathetically. “Might just have to wait it out, I hate to say.”

“I was afraid of that,” Harry admitted. 

“How is he doing?” Ron asked. “Hermione and I wanted to check in on him, but Ginny said he wanted to be alone.”

“Yeah, well…He’s about as well as you might expect,” Harry said uncertainly. He’d never heard back from his son. Harry wondered if Ginny had, or if she was only making excuses? Though it stung to consider, Harry did hope James let Ginny see him. At least one of them could be there for him. Ginny would know what to do, she always did. 

“Rough. Anyone with half a brain doesn’t believe it, anyway,” Ron assured him. “Are you hungry?”

“No, I’ll grab something later,” Harry said dismissively. “Actually, ask Fern to bring me a coffee, if you don’t mind?”

“Sure, mate,” Ron agreed, taking his leave. 

Harry sat back in his chair, making no pretenses of working as the other aurors checked in on him, or even when Fern the secretary brought him his requested drink, and an unrequested pastry. No one faulted him for having a lot on his mind, though they didn’t know the half of it. 

Severus had no intention of playing house with him. Harry understood. The situation had never been fair. He had rather hoped, rather expected, Severus would jump at the chance to see what they could be, but he should have known better. There was too much history, too much hurt. Unfair for Harry to expect him to put his heart on the line anymore than he already had. 

A foolish fantasy, really. What sort of life could they have together? They fought too much, always butting heads. Relationships required compromise, and Severus was too uncompromising. He was too set in his ways, too particular for Harry’s chaos and spontaneity. How did one even court the potions master? Could he even imagine taking Severus on a date? All he could see were glimpses of an awkward dinner and the gawking of their fellow diners. 

Shame followed in the wake of his embarrassment. How would he explain his draw to the older wizard? What would people think? Horrible to consider that. He shouldn’t care. Harry liked to think it wouldn’t stop him trying, if given the opportunity, but he would never know. 

They shared love, yes, and passion. Neither of those did a relationship make. All of the longing in the world would not make a partnership. With Ginny he had it all, save the passion. They relied on one another, worked alongside each other, wanted the same things. Marriage with Ginny was what marriage should be, excepting Harry’s past sins. Each day they spent apart, though, the less pull he felt towards her, the stronger the magnetism to Severus grew. It did not necessarily mean anything, but it did worry him.

What if this break failed? What if he found his marriage broken, and Severus remained unwilling? He stood to lose every last thing that mattered to him. 

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he gulped down his cold coffee, scarfed down his cold breakfast, and threw himself into work.

* * *

As it turned out, Emanuel Goldstein was a seventh year Gryffindor. He was moderately good-looking, but a terrible student. His only strong subject was Care of Magical Creatures. No wonder Mabel liked him, with her own love of all living beings. He did think she had better taste than some dumb athlete, for he was also a Beater for his house team. Emanuel barely scraped by in his other classes, and rumor had it he had an elaborate system for cheating. 

“He’s really nice, though,” Xavia Zabini told them. “People probably help him cheat happily, they like him so much.”

Albus and Scorpius sat in the common room with all of the girls in their year. They did not lower themselves to petty gossip, but they did indulge in information gathering on principle. Xavia had taken to the job with more enthusiasm than the others, if only to distract from her numerous scandals. 

“Seems to me he suits Maple Longfellow perfectly,” Almeda Fawley sulked. 

“Mabel,” Albus corrected irritably. It was a name meaning ‘lovable’, which Albus had always found appropriate. 

“They would be sweet together,” agreed Xavia, crossing her long dark legs. She winked at Albus, earning a glare from Almeda. 

“They can live happily ever after for all I care,” Albus lied. “I have my own issues with Goldstein.”

“Such as?” prompted Gemma Belby. 

Every sharp, female eye shot to him probingly. Scorpius shifted nervously at his side, but Albus sat tall and dignified. “You don’t think I’d give incriminating information to the most devious minds in this school?”

Xavia Zabini knew better to fall for his flattery, but she smiled anyway, a knowing glint in her dark eyes. Almeda preened while Gemma giggled flirtatiously. Lyra Flint and Beryl McNair wore smug smiles as they sat straighter. 

“They are terrifying,” Scorpius muttered under his breath, words meant only for Albus. Fortunately for him, the ladies heard this. Even Xavia appeared pleased by his words. Albus mentally cheered for his friend’s addition. 

“Well,” Beryl said, “I did hear his father…”

For well over an hour the witches of Slytherin offered their insight. Albus filed away even the most minute detail. He couldn’t say why it mattered or what he would do with the information. It was for the best if Mabel moved on, wasn’t it? This would be easier once she had a new boyfriend and he had a new girlfriend and they both forgot everything they’d shared. Only, Mabel was a sweet girl. The least Albus could do was make sure she didn’t end up with a total prat. 

When they were finished, Albus and Scorpius retired to their dormitory. It was early yet, so no one else was around. Albus flopped onto his bed with a sigh. “I really thought May had better taste.”

“Maybe you should talk to her,” Scorpius suggested.

Albus snorted. “Sure. ‘Hey, May, please improve your choice of boyfriend, this is embarrassing.’ That will go over just swell.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Scorpius said, hopping onto the mattress beside him. “Tell her the truth. Well, maybe not all that,” Scorpius said to Albus’s shocked expression. “Just the…the other bits. The scared bits.”

“How do I explain that?” Albus asked. “What would it even matter? We’re over with. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. You’re obsessing,” Scorpius told him. “You still love her.”

“I do not love her!” Albus exclaimed, half panicked by the thought. He hadn’t, really, he just liked her a lot. Liked her too much. Felt too comfortable with her, too safe. Was too tempted to reveal too much to her. Too tempted to open up to her completely. More than just the family secret would be at stake. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Scorpius muttered. “Look, I’m not saying get back together with her. Just…get some real closure. See if you can still be friends. It would do you both some good.”

Albus considered this. If he could talk to anyone, besides Scorpius, it was Mabel. She was a good listener. Maybe she would understand that he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship. Maybe they could be friends. They had been friends before they started dating. It was easy to be around her. Easy to want to give her everything, share your every thought with her, your every deed, good and bad. She would keep it all to herself, he knew. She might even understand it, accept it, all of it. So why did it matter that he keep it from her? 

Anxiety churned in his stomach. “Can we talk about something else?”

Scorpius looked at him, gray eyes full of every word he would leave unsaid for now. “Did you hear the Odell twins are dating the Scamander twins?”

“No,” Albus said, less curious than he would have been a few weeks ago. 

“Yeah. It makes you think, do they, like, share? You know? Like…Opal is with Lorcan, and Onyx is with Lysander? Only, I could have sworn it was Opal and Lysander snogging in the empty Charms room the other day. Do you think they ever go with the wrong one by accident? Or maybe they do it on purpose?”

“I can see the Odell twins having fun with it,” Albus said, finding himself more engaged with the topic. Scopius’s suspicions had his mind turning. “Onyx, especially. She would snog Lorcan thinking herself clever for it.”

“You don’t think Opal would be in on it?” Scorpius asked.

“Maybe, but it would be Onyx’s idea,” Albus said, turning onto his stomach. Scorpius rolled over to join in the position. For a good half hour they debated the mischief twins could get up to, and from there moved onto the suspected use of Polyjuice in everything from hooking up with otherwise loyal people to framing one’s enemies for various wrongdoings. By the time their dorm mates joined them, the boys were laughing over the rumors of Niall McLaggen’s failed seduction of Professor Bell.

* * *

With his mother at work, and an overpowering craving for something sweet, James sneaked out of his flat, head ducked as he walked down the street to the nearby sweet shop. James had been meaning to visit since moving in, though he had never gotten around to it until now. Just a sweet tooth, he told himself, and not a pregnancy craving. Denial even now as his belly grew, even with proof from Hannah Longbottom’s own wand. 

“My husband said it was a load of dragon dung,” a squat witch said as James loaded a hot pink basket with several boxes of Exploding Bon Bons. “But he’s looking a bit round, isn’t he?” 

“That is an awful lot of bon bons,” her tall friend whispered. 

James coughed and ducked his head, grabbing a different box to busy his shaking hands. (Mandrake Truffles - their cries won’t kill you, but they will disturb the neighbors!) 

“Oh hush, he’s a growing boy,” someone else said.

“Oh, he’s growing alright.”

James knew his face and neck were bright red. His skin was hot and clammy. There was a squirming in his stomach - not the baby, right, it was too early? It was just the embarrassment, wasn’t it? 

“That Parkinson woman has it wrong,” swore a loud older witch. “My Janine says he did it on purpose. Trying to keep his philandering lover. Poor dear, that never works.”

“Who was he seeing?” someone asked curiously.

“Oh, some handsome bloke on his team. That Irby fellow.”

“Jacob Irby? You’re _kidding_!”

“I always thought he was one of those types.” 

The pink basket fell to the floor. James wanted to tell them off. Laugh it off. Something. Rumors had never bothered him much before. Then again, he’d never dealt with anything so serious before. Nothing so personal had been leaked for public scrutiny. Even his mild, adolescent indiscretions had been swiftly covered by his parents. Few people heard of the shoplifting incident at Honeydukes, or his hexing the girl who made Lily cry her second year. The press would have a field day with the most minor of stories regarding any of the Potters, but Harry and Ginny had never once let word get out about any of it. The only people to have their names dragged through the mud were Harry and Ginny themselves. They always handled themselves with aplomb. James didn’t know how they did it. His mind was a jumbled mess. All he wanted to do was scream and cry, to hurl the sweets at every nasty gossiper. 

“Kiefer!” called a familiar voice. “I’m taking my break now!”

James didn’t move as a heavy cloak settled over him, hood neatly pulled up over his head. “Come on,” Teddy said gently, lightly grasping his shoulders. “Let’s get you home.” Teddy tucked one of the boxes of bon bons under his arm as he led James out. “Back to shopping! Have you seen today’s sales? Ask Kiefer for details!” Teddy said cheerily to the other customers. 

James stumbled when they made it out onto the sidewalk, but Teddy held him up. Neither said a word on the walk home. No one stared. No interested murmurs. A mysterious witch or wizard hiding their face was nothing new, even walking alongside a friend or lover. James began to relax away from prying eyes, out in the fresh morning air. Finally, he could think straight, but couldn’t find the words to say to Teddy. He imagined one syllable would have Teddy rushing away from him again. 

To his surprise, Teddy walked him into his apartment. James settled on the couch while Teddy brewed tea. Rather than join him, Teddy watched the water heat, standing with his back to him. James rubbed his face. It was awful. Couldn’t they have been decent enough to gossip about him where he couldn’t hear them? He had been standing right there, and they spoke of him like he was a spectacle! They didn’t understand. No one did. And no one would believe him if he tried to explain. 

He wanted to explain. He wanted to shout it at the top of his lungs. This wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He wasn’t a victim, wasn’t a perpetrator, was just a regular bloke fate was fucking with. 

More than anything, James longed to tell Teddy. Teddy really thought James had tricked him. It hurt, but he understood. As far as Teddy knew, his current state was impossible by any other method. The truth would sound like a fantastical excuse to Teddy’s ears. James hugged himself. 

“Here you are,” Teddy said, bringing him a cup of tea and the box of bon bons. James took both without meeting Teddy’s concerned gaze. “Will you be alright?”

James only nodded.

Teddy lingered a moment, shifting awkwardly on his feet. His teal hair and eyes were as vivid as the fuchsia robes of his work uniform. “I should get back to the shop, but…we should talk soon, I guess. About…you know. The baby.”

James flinched at the word. Baby. Right. He was having a baby. Teddy’s baby. His head jerked with what could have been a nod. The tea was warm in his hands, grounding him to the present. Teddy left quietly. James sipped his tea, glancing at the clock. If he owled his mum, she might leave work early for him. For the first time he even considered going to see his dad. Harry had owled, and James knew his dad would drop everything to be there for him. From his letter, James gathered Ginny hadn’t told him anything. James was grateful, but now he wished his dad knew. 

Who else understood better the surprise of a pregnancy like this? Who better knew the tumults of being in the public eye? James couldn’t forgive him just yet, but longed for his comfort anyway. 

James chose not to reach out to anyone. He was an adult now. He couldn’t go running to mummy and daddy anytime someone said something mean to him. This may be on a grander scale than the average witch or wizard dealt with, but all the same. He would need to toughen up, because it was only going to get worse. A number of people didn’t believe the article, but eventually the truth was going to come out. James couldn’t hide his bump forever, and he certainly couldn’t hide a baby.

Or could he? He wondered, worrying his lower lip. His parents had done so, after all. James could hide it, give birth in secret, then ferry the baby off to be adopted elsewhere. It wasn’t as if James was ready to be a father. 

His stomach twisted uncomfortably. “Was that you?” he whispered, looking down to his small bump. Was it too early for the baby to be moving around? Or was that his gut telling him he couldn’t very well give up his baby, whether he was ready or not. 

“We can just pretend you have a mummy somewhere,” James mused quietly. “Like my mum did. I dunno who we’d trust, but…but it could be done, couldn’t it?” James sipped his tea, turning the idea over and over in his mind as the hours passed. 

It was calming to plot this way. Harry and Ginny had managed. Why not James? He had months to sort this out. No one need know the truth. There was some way to make this work, he just knew it.

* * *

At half past noon there was a sharp rapping on the frame of his open door. Harry grunted, finishing the report in front of him before glancing up. Ginny waited cool and collected in robes of deep plum. The color suited her ginger hair and chocolate eyes beautifully. She wore a pleasant smile that did not reach her eyes. 

“Would you like to have lunch with me, dear?” Ginny asked.

“Um. Yes. Yes, of course,” Harry stammered. His head felt woolly, stuffed too full of meaningless details. He removed his glasses to rub his sore eyes before standing. 

Out in the hallway, Ron grinned at them. “Making sure he eats, Gin? ‘Mione’s been worried.”

“Oh, yes,” Ginny laughed. “Poor thing needs looking after now and then.”

“Hey now,” Harry said, good-natured amusement at his own expense. “Some of us work hard for a living.”

“Too hard, more like,” Ron chuckled. “Well, don’t let me keep you.” 

Ginny took his hand and they chatted about their workdays as they walked out of his department and out to the transport area of the Ministry. Just husband and wife leaving for lunch together, nothing unusual. It was as if everything were normal between them, as if they didn’t live separately, as if they weren’t carrying the weight of hidden struggles. People greeted them as they passed, some supportive and sympathetic, others greedily scrutinizing them for signs of weakness. Harry and Ginny returned both types with politeness, seemingly unperturbed. 

“Home, then,” Ginny told him when they reached the Floo station. “We can talk privately there.”

At first, Harry had assumed she wanted to talk about the James situation, but they would not need privacy for that. The more people who knew it for false, the better. They could discuss how to help James deal with the press in his office, for all he cared. No, this had to do with their break, didn’t it? It was much too soon to make any decisions. Harry did not feel ready for this conversation, but Flooed to their Godric Hollow’s home anyway. 

With a flick of his wife’s wand, ingredients flew about, fixing themselves into sandwiches, pumpkin juice pouring itself into two large glasses, the meal setting down on the dining room table just as Harry and Ginny seated themselves. 

“You’ve seen the article?” Ginny asked.

“Who hasn’t,” Harry shrugged. “Have you talked to James?”

Ginny sipped her drink, eyes flitting about nervously. “Yes.”

“How’s he holding up?” Harry asked.

“Not too well,” Ginny said, letting out a breath. “Harry, it’s true, what the article says.”

Harry stared at her. “That’s not very funny, Gin.”

“No, it’s not.” Ginny frowned. “Hannah confirmed it. He’s pregnant.”

“What?” Harry roared, banging a fist into the table. “How? She was right, then? Someone set him up?”

“No, nothing like that.” Ginny waved dismissively. “No, this one is your fault, Harry.”

Harry gaped. “Me?”

“I suspected, and Hannah quite agrees, that because of the potion you took…because of the lasting affect it’s had on you…that the ability was passed down onto James. Likely Albus, as well.”

Harry shook his head, crossing his arms as he sat back in his chair. The tester potion he’d taken could not have also affected his children, could it? They had never thought of that. At least, Harry hadn’t. He rubbed absently at his neck. His plate scooted closer to him, prompting him to grab the sandwich to take a bite, thinking as he chewed. Bad enough for his mistakes to bite his arse, without also impacting his children so seriously. 

Well he remembered the nasty shock of it, of Severus’s suspicions, Hannah’s confirmation. Terrifying, when you never knew it was a possibility. Difficult to grasp. “What do we do? How do we help?”

“I’d like for you to come with me to see him tonight,” Ginny said. “I dunno how he’ll react, but I think he needs you, Harry. You’re the only one who might understand what he’s going through.”

“Yes. Of course,” Harry agreed. How many times had he considered paying James a visit these last months? These were not the circumstances he’d envisioned. “Six? I can make dinner.”

Ginny failed the fight against her smile. “I think he would like that very much.”

* * *

That evening, Severus decided to leave work at his usual time. No more pretenses, now, no more distractions. He couldn’t let this control his life forever. Tonight he would go home, alone, and have dinner, alone, and go to bed, alone, and whatever urges he felt he would not turn to Harry or to Esther. Only fools let their emotions rule them, and Severus did not count himself to be among fools. 

Only it was Esther who met him on his way out of the hospital. “I thought for certain you’d take to sleeping here,” she teased. 

Severus smiled tightly. “No, I am rather old to be camping out in laboratories, slaving over a day’s work.”

“I don’t believe that for an instant,” Esther smiled. “You are an intense man, Severus. I don’t think you leave anything alone until you’re good and done with it.”

Was it a trick of the mind, or was she flirting with him? She had been more prone to such fuss since they began going on occasional dates. Severus had been sure to imply nothing, to make no promises, had in fact reiterated his unwillingness to commit. Perhaps it meant nothing, only a lonely woman latching to what companionship she could find. Severus well knew the feeling. 

“Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?” Esther asked as they walked out of the front doors together. Muggle passersby paid them no mind, though they had exited a condemned department store. “I don’t have a hidden talent for cooking, but I make an edible bangers and mash.”

Esther was so excellent in so many fields, that the fact that she was not a gifted cook was almost charming. He himself knew only basic meals. It was Harry with all of the kitchen talent. Harry who showed him how to make a delicious spaghetti, who saved his atrocious attempts at curry, who could prepare sweet and sour chicken even drunk and half naked. The chore he had been given at a young age by neglectful relatives had become an enjoyable task for the pleasure it brought his loved ones. 

_“Taste this,”_ he recalled Harry saying once, lifting a spoon to his mouth. Severus did not remember what it was he tasted, only that it was scrumptious. That once it was off of heat, he’d sank to his knees to taste something else. 

“You should know,” Severus said as he walked, bringing himself back to the present, “that I have been intimate with another, recently.” 

“Ah,” Esther said, attempting to keep the disappointment from her tone. “Well, we were never exclusive, were we? Are you meeting her tonight, then?”

She was taking this remarkably well. He sensed that it bothered her, but she wasn’t involved enough to be broken up about it. That was a relief. “No.”

“Well, come over, then,” Esther said. “I rather enjoy intelligent conversation over a meal.” She managed a smile. “I don’t expect you to ‘put out’, unless you want to. But we are friends, at least.”

A friend. They were, at that, weren’t they? Friends with benefits, a modern concept for such older folk. “Very well.” He was not running to her for distraction, but he was living his life, taking matters as they came. He wasn’t sure what would come of dinner with Esther, but as they headed to her nearby home, he wistfully wondered what dinner might be if it was Harry fixing him bangers and mash.

* * *

At six precisely, Harry Apparated just within the bounds of the magical apartment complex. Ginny was already waiting with a bag of groceries. Together they walked up to the third floor, to room 315. Ginny let herself in, Harry close behind her. 

James was pacing the middle of the living room, juggling several colorful balls. They all dropped when James spotted them. James and Harry stared at each other as Ginny set her bag down. 

“I’m sorry, James, but I’ve told your father,” Ginny said, bracing herself for his lashing out. 

“Oh, good,” James said, to both of their surprise. He spread his arms. Harry noted the roundness of his stomach on his normally well-toned son. It occurred to Harry that he’d never questioned his son’s sexuality, or questioned Ginny about who the father was. Those details didn’t really matter, did they? His normally confident, playful son looked so lost. “Dad, I don’t know what to do.” His voice broke, and it tore at something inside of Harry. He cautiously stepped forward, glad when James eagerly fell into his father’s arms. 

“Don’t worry, James. I’m here. Your mother and I are going to help you,” Harry swore. “Does the father know?”

“Yeah, Teddy knows,” James said miserably.

Harry shot Ginny a stunned look over James’s head. Ginny nodded. She had already known, then. 

Teddy, his godson, and James, his son. Only, Teddy was engaged to Victoire! Harry held onto his son tighter. Talk about suffering for the sins of the father. How had James found himself in such a situation? How could Harry blame him? There was no room to apportion blame when he himself had so extravagantly erred. 

“I messed up, Dad,” James sniffed. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Come on, let me fix dinner for the three of us,” Harry said, holding James by the shoulders to hold him back, looking him in the eye. “You’re not in this alone, James, I swear.” 

Ginny engaged James in small talk that eventually turned into laughing when Ginny stole one of James’s bon bons. Harry smiled to himself as he prepared the food. Almost, it felt like home, like everything was right again. Such a shame it had only fractured further.


	13. As the Storm Blows On

_ FATHER OF JAMES POTTER’S CHILD REVEALED - AND YOU WON’T BELIEVE IT! _

_If he investigates his son’s predicament, Harry Potter need only look to his own family. Or near-family, as it may be. It has come to our attention that the father of dear Harry’s grandchild is none other than his godson, Edward “Teddy” Lupin._

_Orphaned during the Second Wizarding War, Teddy was raised by his grandmother, Andromeda Tonks. The late Nymphadora and Remus Lupin were known as a kind, dedicated couple. They were heroes, sacrificing their lives to make the world a better place for their newborn son._

_If only they knew what that son would grow to be._

_Teddy is known as a sweet young man. Handsome, though that may be the Metamorphmagi gene inherited from his mother. Kind, though placid. The one fault friends and family point out is his lack of ambition, hopping from job to job over the years. This lack of dedication apparently extends into his romantic life. He has been engaged to longtime girlfriend, Victoire Weasley, for two years. During this time he began a clandestine dalliance with the young wizard he grew up alongside._

_The question is, who plotted James Potter’s pregnancy? Did Teddy Lupin sneak the male pregnancy potion to James when James threatened to end their affair? Or did James trick Teddy into impregnating him so that he would leave Victoire? Or did Victoire herself orchestrate the plot, in an effort to out and shame the men who betrayed her?_

_Many interesting theories have come our way, but we cannot yet say what occurred. We can only hope the innocent child will not suffer for the sins of their fathers._

* * *

It was Victoire cursing in French that woke Teddy Friday morning. It was for the best, really, as he had not heard his alarm go off and he had work in an hour. Teddy got out of bed and shuffled to where Victoire sat in the kitchen, huffing over her morning smoothie. 

“Everything alright, love?” Teddy asked, sleepily kissing the top of her head. 

“ _Non_!” she snapped. One perfectly manicured finger pointed to the newspaper she’d thrown to the floor. “Garbage!” 

Already fearing the worst, Teddy picked up the paper to read the front page article. He wasn’t surprised. He’d known it would come out eventually. The only truly irritating part were the accusations thrown at Victoire and himself. He would never slip someone a potion, let alone one like that! What, bringing a child into the world just to keep his lover around? The mention of his parents only made him sad. They had been truly good people, his grandmother and godfather had always told him. He did not think they would be proud of the wizard he had become. 

He hadn’t meant for things with James to happen as they had. He had always wondered if he might be bisexual, but his longterm relationship with Victoire had not allowed time for experimentation. He had known, too, of James’s crush on him for a while now. It hadn’t meant anything until James was older, flaunting his athletic body, flirting shamelessly when they were alone. James was handsome, too, and fun to be around. Teddy liked fun people, and he also liked that James never judged him for letting his whims carry him through life. 

Only now his whims had carried him into a place he never thought he’d be. Teddy loved Victoire, he really did. He wanted to marry her and have a family with her. He certainly did not want to hurt her. There were no excuses for what he’d done. Now, because James had wanted him all for himself, he was going to be a father. Teddy was nowhere near ready for that, and James even less so.

“Even if James is pregnant, which I doubt, accusing you of being the father? They are getting desperate!” Victoire ranted. “What next? Voldemort has risen from the grave to punish the Potters for his downfall! Fa! They will need better content to survive, if this is what they’ve come to!”

Teddy folded the paper carefully and set it on the table. “Vic,” he said, taking her hands in his.

Victoire sighed. “Yes, I know, we will get through this, but we should not have to suffer this…this indignity! Bad enough they have targeted poor Jamesy, let alone dragging you into this! And me? What have I done, then?” Even scowling, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “As if I am so vindictive!”

“Vic,” Teddy repeated. “It’s true.”

Victoire snorted. “I am only sometimes vindictive. There.”

“Vic,” Teddy said again, voice trembling now. He wasn’t sure he could do this if she kept this up. “James is pregnant.” 

Victoire blinked. “Really? But why would he do such a thing?”

Teddy swallowed. He could drop this whole thing, and she would never have to know the truth. She would believe him if he denied it, no matter what anyone said. She would defend him until she ran out of breath. “And it’s mine.”

Blue eyes stared blankly at him. She was very still. Teddy pressed a kiss to her hands. “I’m sorry, my love. I never meant for this to happen.”

“You’re lying,” she breathed, pulling her hands free. 

Teddy knelt before her, gazing up at her pleadingly. He already knew how this would unfold, still he clung to hope that he could keep her. “It was a mistake. I was just comforting him while he was here and -”

“In our home!” Victoire squealed. Blue eyes darkened ominously. “In our bed?”

“Vic-”

“Did you fuck him in my bed, Edward?” Victoire shouted. 

Teddy swallowed and nodded. Victoire stood, walking out into the living room. Teddy scrambled up to follow her. “I’m sorry, Victoire, I really am.”

“He’s my cousin!” Victoire screamed, waving her wand recklessly. Furious red jets shot out haphazardly, knocking frames from the walls. “He’s practically your brother! How dare you?”

“I…I know,” he said. “It was wrong. I know that.”

“You used him!” she spat. “He was vulnerable, and you used him!” 

“No, it’s not like that! He’s always had a crush on me!” Teddy rushed to explain. “He started it, and I…I couldn’t push him away!”

“He is a boy!” Victoire snarled. “He was hurting.”

“He’s eighteen!”

“And you are twenty four, Teddy! You are older! You are supposed to be wiser! You were meant to look out for him!” Her face was flushed, but the look in those blue orbs was ice. So cold they burned. “You were meant to love me. To be faithful to me. You made promises to me.”

“I know. I know, Vic. I regret it. I regret all of it!”

“All of it? So you seduced him more than once?”

“Yes. No! I didn’t seduce him, he threw himself at me!”

“Don’t you dare blame him for what you did! Be an adult for once, Ted, and admit to your mistakes!”

“I’m trying. What I did was wrong, but you don’t understand.”

“I understand well enough, I think!” Victoire pulled the ring from her finger, the small pink sapphire glittering as she threw it at him. “You are disgusting. You are deplorable. Maman always said I needed a stronger-willed man. And she was right. What sort of man falls into his fiancee’s bed with her eighteen year old, vulnerable cousin? What sort of man can’t hold a job for more than three months? What sort of man can’t make up his mind about dinner, let alone a career? I stuck by you, through all of the uncertainty, and you do this to me? To _me_?” Victoire stepped very close to him, breathing heavily. “They were right, I suppose. Maybe I am vindictive.” She stood tall, proud. “I want you out of this house. I don’t care where you go, but I want you gone by the time I get home this evening.” 

Spinning on her heel, Victoire swept out of the house, slamming the door shut behind her. Teddy sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. He couldn’t blame her for being upset. Couldn’t blame her for leaving. Couldn’t blame her for all of her cruel words. No, the only person he had to blame was himself.

* * *

Albus scoffed in disgust at the latest edition of the _Prophet_. Everyone in the Great Hall was reading it. Heads would lift, peering around for him or for Lily. Albus spotted his sister, arguing with her house mates. Scorpius patted his back sympathetically. 

“They just get more and more far-fetched, don’t they?” his friend said.

“What’s sad is the number of idiots believing all of this,” Albus grumbled. 

It was near the end of breakfast when a late owl came hurtling through the air. Albus and Scorpius were leaving the hall when the bored black owl swept by, dropping the letter on his head. Albus caught it neatly. The handwriting was all too familiar and he hurried down the corridor, ripping the seal eagerly. News from home, at last! He’d been worrying about his brother. Surely this would be an update.

_Albus,_

_What they’re saying is true, at least in part. Please be open-minded when you see your brother. Let him explain. Matters are more complicated than even they know._

_Your mother and I are doing what we can. We plan to meet with Severus today. We will be working as a team to make things better for your brother. I don’t know what we can do, but we will try._

_I understand that we were wrong to keep you all in the dark for so long. I am sorry for the hurt I brought to this family. I am trying to remedy that now by keeping you informed. Your brother agrees. He’s too embarrassed to write to you himself. If you’re not too upset, will you please write him? He would love to hear from you._

_Love from,_

_Dad_

As soon as he finished reading, Albus set the parchment ablaze. Scorpius shouted. “What happened?”

“I don’t need anyone sneaking a peak at that,” Albus said, letting the ashes fall to the ground.

“What was it?”

Albus shook his head, walking further down the corridor. He didn’t remember where they’d been headed. Part of it was true? That must mean James being pregnant. But with Teddy’s child? It sounded so wild, but he remembered the kiss in the kitchen. Had it gone farther than that? Knowing what he knew of his brother, of his passion and determination, it was likely. But why would he take that potion? Complicated, Harry had said. 

Was it possible that the paper had matters right? Did Victoire really go so far as to slip James that potion for revenge? She was vindictive, but that was going too far. Albus doubted Teddy or James would have done it. Unless the original article had been right when it implied an outside person sneaked it to his brother. But who? James didn’t have enemies that Albus knew of. 

“Al, what’s wrong? What happened? What was in that letter?”

“Shhh, I’m thinking,” Albus said.

“Well, think this way, we’re due in Transfiguration,” Scorpius said, tugging Albus’s arm in the other direction. 

In Transfiguration, Albus sat beside Scorpius. On his other side, Almeda quickly claimed the seat a Ravenclaw girl was about to take. If she walked away disappointed, Albus couldn’t tell. He didn’t register much. Even when Professor Bell came in to begin the lesson, he took notes absently, still mulling over the entire situation. Who would have the motive to slip James that potion? A rival team, perhaps? Or a rival for the spot James had taken among the Falcons? Pregnancy was a good way to get him removed from the team. 

Or was it a rival of Harry’s? Expensing justice on him through his son. Though he was the Wizarding World’s darling, their savior, near-demigod in their eyes, he also had enemies. Imprisoned Death Eaters and their families, or anyone imprisoned by his work with the Magical Law Enforcement Department. Back in his early days as an auror, he’d had a nasty temper, or so people said. Had he peeved off someone back then, and it was coming back to haunt him now? 

Or was it simply a mistake, as it had been in Harry’s case? What were the odds that both father and son would accidentally take the wrong potion, that wrong potion being the Masculo Praegnatio? 

Albus was still lost in thought when the bell rang, now covering the letter he planned to write in turn. He needed more details. Maybe Harry or James could meet him during the next Hogsmeade weekend? Harry hadn’t given him nearly enough, and already his imagination was running away from him. What he needed were the facts, even if it meant facing his father and brother, neither of who Albus was best pleased with at the moment. 

A slender arm slipped through his as he left the class. Albus blinked in surprise at Almeda Fawley. Scorpius trailed uncertainly behind them as Almeda steered him away.

“You looked like you were plotting in there,” Almeda said. Her eyes so glittered, Albus could swear he saw lightning in their storm cloud depths. “Goldstein?”

“My lips are sealed, Almeda,” he replied smoothly. 

Almeda grabbed him by the tie, turning to face him, walking backwards as she pulled him along. Albus glanced back at Scorpius who shrugged. He turned back in time to watch Almeda back herself into a wall, tugging him closer to her. 

“If you are trying to make her jealous, now’s your chance,” she whispered, then she was kissing him. Albus tensed, too aware of the people moving down the corridor around them, coming up behind them, and he kissed her back, hands moving awkwardly to her waist. Scorpius whistled nervously a few yards away. 

Albus saw the dark gold of her honey hair. He watched Mabel pass, watched her turn her head to look at him. Their eyes locked. Envy and pain in those sapphire depths. Her plump lips pressed tightly together. Then her back was to him, Emanuel Goldstein tugging her along by hand. Albus closed his eyes against the frustration and the longing, throwing all of that pent up energy into Almeda. 

“Ten points from Slytherin! Move along Potter, Fawley,” called Professor Bell from the door of her classroom. “No kissing in the halls!”

“Don’t worry,” Almeda cheerfully called back. “I know plenty of other places to snog!”

“Another ten points, Fawley!”

“’Meda!” Albus laughed, stunned by her cheek. Almeda grinned in a self-satisfied manner, slipping her hand into his. “Erm…You should know, I’m really not looking for a relationship.” 

Certainly not now, knowing what he knew of James. Blind love for Teddy had driven them to this. Now James and Teddy were expecting a baby neither could care for, while Victoire was not only betrayed by her fiance, but had it plastered for the world to see on the front page news. If his parents’ mess had scared him, James’s mess only confirmed his fears. Maybe one day, if he ever knew he had learned from their mistakes, if he could guarantee he would break no one’s heart, or break none in turn, maybe then. Maybe. 

Almeda was quiet, clearly disappointed. Still she held his hand as they walked. Albus noted the way people took in their clasped hands, both scared it would get back to Mabel, and hopeful that it would. 

“I can live with that,” Almeda finally said. “You have a free period, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Albus agreed. Almeda suddenly jerked them to the right, quickly ducking into an unused classroom, slamming the door in Scorpius’s face. 

“Good, me, too!” she said, arms slipping around his neck, mouth pressing itself once more to his. 

Albus wasn’t sure how he felt about this casual snogging business, but Almeda was pretty, and she smelled nice. And when he was kissing her, it was easy to focus on the pleasant sensation of her soft, supple lips rather than the new family drama. She, at least, accepted what he could not give.

* * *

_Severus,_

_They’ve got it right, mostly, about James. Ginny and I plan on meeting after work to discuss matters. I would like for you to be there. You’re his father, too._

_Anyway, I don’t know what we can do, but we have to do something. He needs us right now._

_Hope to see you._

_Love,_

_Harry_

Severus greedily traced _Love, Harry_ with his fingertips. How novel, to not have to steal these words, meant for someone else. He still had what he’d taken of Lily’s letter, locked away in the attic. 

He did not know what the Potters thought they could do, other than ride out the storm. If the news was true, this would not end anytime soon. His son, now suffering what they had gone through so many years ago, all because of the very potion he’d invented. That potion had never been meant to become so personal to his own life. It was his great achievement. The shock of it, when the news broke, scandalizing those too old fashioned for their own good. A great victory for same-sex couples, wanting children of their own, and the validation his creation gave them. A similar potion for female couples followed not long after, a much easier potion to brew, requiring less changes to the body than did the one for males. 

His success had been difficult to enjoy, so worried was he for keeping his secret. So torn was he between the possessive need to claim his son, and the fear of ruining the precious child with his lack of parental instincts. And, he could admit, the fear of disrupting his own life for a child he had never seen in his future. 

Now that very child needed him. All too aware was he of his own powerlessness here. There was nothing they could do but be there for him, which Severus rather doubted James wanted from him. Severus thought of refusing, to avoid the rejection of his own son. He ripped the letter, saving the last three lines, burning the rest. _Hope to see you. Love, Harry._ This he tucked away in the inner pocket of his robes. 

Pulling a fresh sheet of parchment onto his desk, the quill hovered there for several long seconds before finally scratching uncertain words.

_Harry,_

_You and Ginevra will meet at my house this evening. I will wrap up with work by six o’clock._

_Love,_

_Severus_

For a long time he looked down at that four letter word, feeling like an utter buffoon for writing them. He thought of burning it to a crisp and starting again. Then he thought of the words tucked away for safekeeping, and sent the letter as it was back to Harry.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Severus was absorbed by his work. A cure for dragon pox was likely his most ambitious project yet. So much progress was made that day, he was reluctant to leave it, but at half past five he came to a stopping point. No, he would not risk lateness. In fact, he would get home a little early to prepare for their visit. 

Only his house was not empty when he arrived. He smelled something spicy from the kitchen, heard the sizzling of a pan and the chopping of a knife. Severus quietly stepped into the kitchen, looking upon the scene. Coming home from work, Harry in the kitchen preparing dinner. Would this be their life together, he wondered? Scenes of domesticity, no longer an empty home, but one alive with these sounds and smells, alive with Harry’s vibrant presence? Something squirmed in his gut, and he wasn’t sure if it was fear or hope. Perhaps both. 

If this were his everyday life, what would he do? Entranced by his fantasy, Severus stepped up to Harry’s side. Harry smiled up at him as he approached. “I got off a little early, thought I would fix us dinner,” Harry explained. Severus rested his hand on Harry’s lower back, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth, lingering a half second longer than the peck he’d intended. 

“Hello, Harry,” he said. Leaving him there, Severus walked across to a cabinet, pulling down three wineglasses and beginning to pour wine. Behind him, he felt the weight of Harry’s attention. It had been a silly thing to do. This was not domestic bliss. This was a meeting he’d requested to take place in his own home, for the comfort of his own territory regarding a subject firmly in theirs. 

“Just water for me, thanks,” Harry said.

“Of course,” Severus said. Recovering alcoholic, right. It hadn’t always stopped him, but if Harry was serious about it, Severus would be supportive. Putting the two clean glasses away, he poured out the third and set about filling three cups with water. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” Harry said, throwing his sliced vegetables into the sizzling pan. Severus said nothing to this. Harry wiped his hands on a towel as the third glass was filled. Harry’s hand slid around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. Severus pulled Harry against him, tangling his fingers through unruly hair as he drank deeply of him.

This would not be everyday life, Severus knew. If they were together, in truth, and lived with one another, everyday would not be so passionate. Every touch of these lips would not electrify him, would not inspire this heat. Reality was never as magical as the fantasy they indulged in. 

Harry pulled away suddenly to tend to his food. Severus caught his breath, gulping down a bit of water as he watched the younger man. They had not properly spoken since their last night together. What more as there to say? Severus could not put himself through what would ultimately be a failed relationship. Only now he watched Harry, unable to stop from wondering what it might be like. He stepped closer, unsure of himself as he rested a hand on Harry’s lower back. Harry determinedly stirred his food, glancing up at him cautiously. He seemed on the verge of speaking, but they heard the distinct sounds of a person exiting the Floo. Severus pulled his hand back, but Harry grabbed it, giving it a squeeze, but letting go as Ginny swept into the room. 

“Hullo,” she said coolly. “It was kind of you to _allow_ us to hold our discussion here.”

Severus snorted. Demanded, more like. Harry and Ginny already had the advantage of having raised James. He was not going to participate as a token presence; if this took place in his own territory, he might feel more involved, less likely to be brushed aside. It would be easy to forget it was just the two of them if they were in their own house. His home would remind them he was there, and for a reason. At least, he hoped that would be the case. 

“Anything for our son, Mrs. Potter,” Severus replied, just as coolly. 

Harry sighed. “Will food make the two of you more amiable, do you think?”

“Not likely,” Severus replied as Ginny said, “No.”

“Well, it should at least shut you both up,” Harry said, pulling plates out of the cabinet. 

They were, indeed, silent as they fixed their plates and retired to the dining table. Risotto and fresh baked bread made a nice change from the usual hastily thrown together meal, and better then the bangers and mash Esther served up recently. He had been living off of the leftovers she’d sent him home with. Edible, as promised, but that was about all that could be said for it. If we was lucky, there would be some leftover from this meal. 

“This was lovely, Harry,” Ginny said when they were done. With a spell, she collected their dishes and set them all to washing. 

“Yes, it was,” Severus agreed. 

Harry shrugged, though both wife and lover could tell he was pleased by the compliment. Ginny smiled and squeezed his shoulder as she passed to check on the progress of her dish washing. Severus schooled his features to not give away his discomfort. Harry smiled sheepishly at him, face pinking. Daringly, Severus reached across the table to take his hand. Harry’s fingers curled around his own, and he let his thumb stroke the rough skin it found. His Harry worked too hard, had been through too much, for soft, delicate skin. 

“You’re bad,” Harry whispered, giving his hand a squeeze, releasing it as Ginny walked back in. He did not release it in time, for Ginny’s eyes narrowed at the movement of their hands. Caught in the act. By the cunning look in those emerald orbs, Severus had the feeling Harry had timed the motion precisely. To make Ginny jealous for his own sake, or for the sake of returning the jealousy she’d caused in Severus? The idea of Harry allowing matters to remain fair had his heart skipping a peculiar jig. 

“Shall we talk here, or in the living room?” Ginny asked, standing behind her chair. 

“Here is fine,” Harry said, pulling two copies of _The Daily Prophet_ from his robes. “Err…if that’s alright, Sev?”

“Here is fine, Harry,” Severus agreed. He did not entirely mean to shoot Ginny a smug look, but the angry tic in her cheek was well worth it. 

The two front page articles about James were spread out across the table, positioned so they all might see reasonably well. All knew the words by heart, though Ginny did lean over to scan over a few lines. Severus tapped his mouth thoughtfully. Harry leaned his arms on the table and frowned.

“How did she find out?” Severus asked.

“Get this,” Ginny said. “She’s James’s neighbor.”

“What? You didn’t tell me that!” Harry exclaimed. 

“Hmm,” Severus said. “Parkinson was always a nosy little chit.”

“I offered her money,” Ginny sighed. “I offered her anything to hold the second article. She refused. Seems to think this is her big break.”

“She wouldn’t be wrong,” Severus said. “Particularly since it’s true. She’ll bring prestige back to the Prophet they haven’t known in decades.” Harry and Ginny glared down at the offending newspaper. Severus hesitated, clearing his throat before asking, “If I might ask…Which details in particular were true?”

“Oh, that James is pregnant and it’s Teddy’s,” Harry replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ah,” Severus said. Lupin’s child, of course. He had been a regular visitor in the past, especially when he was a child. He would stay weekends with the Potters often enough, tagging along for their Sunday visits to Severus Snape. Six years older than James, they had been near brothers, or so Severus had thought. Closer than brothers, in reality. 

“They’ll never guess the ‘how’ right,” Ginny said. She looked grim. Harry’s head fell, looking down at the tabletop.

“Pray tell,” Severus prompted. 

“The potion Harry took? How he retained the ability to get pregnant?” 

She did not need to explain further. “It passed onto James,” Severus said thoughtfully. Ginny shifted in her seat, arms crossed, pointedly not looking at either of them. Harry nodded miserably when he lifted his head. “We should have tested for that.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. Careless, not to consider it before. When the boys came out otherwise healthy, it hadn’t occurred to them to search for other affects it may have had. Severus was a researcher; he should have known better. 

“You should have,” Ginny said stiffly.

“Could’ve-would’ve-should’ve doesn’t change anything,” Harry said, tapping the papers. “Come on, then.”

“I don’t know what you think we can do, Harry,” Severus admitted quietly. “Parkinson won’t accept bribery. She won’t give in to blackmail, even if you had anything on her.”

“She’s shameless,” agreed Ginny. 

Harry chewed his lip, green eyes flitting from side to side, unseeing as he thought. Albus’s eyes mirrored the movement when he was in thought, though he normally had better self control than to chew his mouth. Ginny was gazing at the papers, foot tapping on the floor. Severus frowned at the paper.

“Would he consider finding a ‘surrogate’ to play mother?” Severus inquired. “Much the same as we did?”

“No one we trust,” Ginny shook her head. “James considered it.”

“You could invent one,” Severus suggested. “Hide his pregnancy. When the child is born, claim the mother abandoned the child, leaving Jim the sole parent. Does he want to keep the child?”

“Yes,” Ginny snapped. “Not all fathers are happy to foist their children off onto others.”

“Ginny,” Harry admonished sharply. 

Ginny’s lips pressed into a pale, thin line. Severus was not bothered by her words, too caught up in his considerations. 

“I’m not sure anyone would believe it, not without a name and a face to the mum,” Harry said. 

“That was my concern,” Severus sighed, frustrated he had not found an answer. There was more at stake, for him. If he could be the one to offer the final solution…what? James forgave him? Welcomed him back into his life? More domestic daydreams, then…Harry at his side, welcoming their son and grandchild for a visit. Fix them tea and snacks, all proper like. Delusional, he was. Severus knew better. 

What mattered the most was that they had a plan for James, whoever found it. Whatever selfish desires he had, deep down he would rest easier if James was okay. 

“If we can refute Teddy’s part in it, he can save face,” Ginny considered. “Call it a potion mishap, a drunken hookup at a bar. Invent a long distance boyfriend, maybe. They’d buy that before they bought convenient nameless mother who gave up her baby precisely when James was ‘supposedly’ due to give birth. There will still be some negative press, but it would be infinitely better than this.” 

Harry nodded, but Severus shook his head. “More may believe it, but not enough. Unless the boyfriend had a name and a face, people will always wonder if the Teddy rumor was true. And somehow, I don’t think Teddy would abandon his child, however immature he is.”

Silence fell among them, Harry’s eyes flickering again, nervously now. “I…had a thought,” Harry hesitantly mentioned.

“Shocking,” Severus muttered sarcastically. It slipped from his mouth unprompted, so used was he to delivering handy insults. 

“You never change,” Ginny muttered. “Go on, Harry.”

Harry straighted the papers side by side and clasped his hands on top of him. He was chewing his lips again. “If we can’t invent a story, we share a new one. Or an old one, as it happens.” Harry licked his lips. “We out ourselves. Telling our story would distract from James’s.” Harry smiled bitterly. “They’re infinitely more interested in my sins than his.”

Severus and Ginny exchanged a long look. Neither could have said what they or the other thought, only that in that moment they shared a feeling, acknowledging the connection between them, the roles they both played in Harry’s life. The roles the boy suggested they reveal. No one spoke for several long minutes. Ginny stood, swiftly moving to retrieve the bottle of wine and two glasses, pouring one for herself and one for Severus. Severus sipped his absently. Ginny gulped hers down, immediately pouring a second. 

“It would bring unwanted attention to the boys, anyway,” Ginny finally said.

“We omit that part, then,” Harry said. “Tell them about my affair.” Ginny reached across the table to take his hand, gazing at him sadly. Severus’s hand twitched to do the same, but he held determinedly onto his wine. “This would affect the both of you, too.”

Yes, that was precisely what worried Severus. He valued his privacy. Even now, his history as a Death Eater tainted his achievements, to some news outlets. Hero or villain, the world had yet to unanimously decide. His past would be dredged up further, because of this. There would be vultures outside of his house with quills and cameras. He may well lose his job, if the hospital was pushed to it. He could lose his friendship with Esther. 

Harry had more to lose. On the whole he was well-liked and respected. No one ever accused Severus of being likable. Harry was talented, powerful, and a genuinely good person. He was their hero. Even with the war decades passed, he was still the most famous wizard in their world. The press still found reasons to mention his name, for good or bad. Harry was the Wizarding World darling, handsome and successful, with his beautiful and successful wife, and their gorgeous and gifted children. Perfect, brittle image poised to shatter. 

“Yes,” Ginny agreed. “The pathetic idiot who stayed with her straying husband. Some strong female role-model I make.” Ginny laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “I’ll be a laughingstock, but you…you’ll be hated, the both of you. Merlin, this is embarrassing. My greatest failure, my greatest humiliation laid bare.” Her cheeks were red, eyes bloodshot and wet, voice weak. “But it would work, wouldn’t it? Pansy Parkinson would have material for the rest of her goddamn life.”

“Do it,” Severus agreed quietly. His hand was quickly snatched up by Harry’s. He looked up into those serious green eyes. More shocking was the smaller hand grabbing his wrist. Severus obediently set down his wineglass, letting Ginny take his hand, so that they were all joined. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Harry said roughly. “Both of you, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Ginny said. “This is for our James.”

Ginny let go of both of their hands first to take another sip of her wine. Severus held onto Harry’s for a time, soothingly stroking his thumb across rough knuckles. Ginny pointedly did not look at them. Severus had to admit, he took as much comfort as he gave. Dread settled heavy in his middle. 

Harry and Ginny took the conversation from there, deciding who could “leak” their story to Pansy Parkinson. They bickered about whether to give the story to another correspondent, but Severus agreed with Harry: Parkinson would need the new toy herself before she gave up the James story. Their love triangle might overshadow James’s scandal, but giving Pansy the story gave them a better shot at the story dying altogether. Neville, Harry and Ginny agreed, would be their best bet. They could ask him, and he would likely agree to help, and through their friend they could guarantee only the details they wanted exposed would be shared. 

From there, they discussed James. He had to move out of his flat immediately, they said. In with one of them temporarily, until they could find him a private, well-protected residence, with plenty of room for himself and his child. How they would approach James. The conversation fell away from any areas Severus could offer input in. Eventually he let go of Harry’s hand, drawing into himself, watching them animatedly work together. 

They made a good team, Severus could admit. They always had. The give and take, the ease of discussion, even in points of tension, the compromise, the willingness to understand. Severus could not give Harry those things. Severus could shout at him, demean him, snarl insults, and stubbornly cling to his arguments and his pride. He was mean and set in his ways. 

What was it Harry saw in him, Severus wondered. It had never made sense, but he did not give the question much of his time. It didn’t matter what it was, only that it was there. Watching them, the question stuck out sorely. Severus was not traditionally attractive. He was not kind. He struggled to express his emotions appropriately. They were so different. They did not fit. 

Severus could wish they did. He longed to be where Ginny sat, more than talking to him, but planning with him, making decisions with him. He craved that connection. Severus envisioned puzzle pieces, forcing the edges to yield, damaging them both in pushing them too hard where they did not belong. 

When it became too much, Severus stood with his wineglass. He walked into the kitchen to refill it, listening as the couple continued to talk. He did not belong there. Terrible loneliness overwhelmed him as he gazed out of the kitchen window, nursing his wine. When it was gone, he placed the empty glass in the sink and walked upstairs into the attic. The piece of Harry’s note he’d saved was removed from his pocket. He absorbed every stroke of the quill, the shape of the words, committing it to memory. 

Harry’s love…so much closer, and all the farther away than Lily’s had ever been. With this in mind, he unlocked the music box housing Lily’s stolen words and carefully placed Harry’s on top. It was for the best, really, that he’d turned down Harry’s offer.

Even if he could keep Harry…he would never be what was best for Harry.


	14. The Desire and Pursuit of the Whole

Almeda turned to joining Albus and Scorpius for mealtimes and during classes. The first time this happened, Albus reminded Almeda of his determined bachelorhood, and Almeda rolled her eyes, assuring him that she was not going to let a Potter like him break her heart. So Almeda stuck around, bringing with her Gemma Belby. Gemma took to flirting with Scorpius heavily while Albus and Almeda snogged in the common room, leaving his poor friend bewildered. And not the least bit interested, as he’d been smitten with Rose for years. 

“You still have a thing for that Gryff-girl, do you?” Gemma said one day as the foursome walked towards their shared Defense class. 

“Um,” Scorpius said, turning bright pink. It always surprised Albus how refined Draco Malfoy was, smooth and charming (albeit a tad arrogant), compared to his clumsy, stuttering son. Albus respected Mr. Malfoy, but Albus preferred his friend the way he was. Albus had never known Scorpius’s mother well before she died, but he could see more of Scorpius’s sweetness and innocence came from Astoria. 

Rose might actually like him if she could look past her house-bigotry. Uncle Ron had embedded that in her early. 

“Well, let’s show her what she’s missing,” Gemma said, slipping her arm through Scorpius’s. Scorpius looked to Albus for help, who only grinned and shrugged. “Ease up, little pup, you have to be suave.” 

“Hey, Lil!” Albus called. His sister was leaving the very class they were to enter. Lily began to wave to him, but her brows furrowed and she turned towards the sixth years already waiting outside of the door. A group of Gryffindors stood there, laughing raucously. Rose was fussing at who looked to be the ringleader. 

“You know your cousin’s a slut, Weasley,” Niall McLaggen was saying. “I’ve heard he’s had half the cocks in this school.” 

Lily shrieked, launching herself at Niall. The wizard stepped back in surprise. Rose shot forward, throwing her arms around Lily to stop her progress, even as pale freckled arms flailed with murderous intent. “Twenty points from Gryffindor, McLaggen!” 

“Got himself knocked up for attention, I’d say,” said Killian Finnegan. “Trying to outshine his famous father? How pathetic!” 

Albus dropped his bag to the stone floor as he drifted closer to the crowd. Scorpius grabbed his arm, but Albus shook him off, drawing his wand. 

“No, he was trying to convince his little boyfriend to stay,” snorted Rowan Wood. “Pathetic.”

“Gay slut trying to make everyone else gay.”

“I heard he slipped a potion to Tim Tuttle just so he could suck his cock.” 

“ _Tarantallegra_!” Albus cast on the worst offender, McLaggen. He accidentally kicked his nearby friend Finnegan when his feet began to move in a foolish dance. Wood went for his wand, but Albus quickly cast the dancing leg jinx on all of the Gryffindor boys. 

“Don’t, Al!” Rose shouted. “Professor Killingsworth!” 

“Ah, you’re much more entertaining like this,” Albus said viciously as the nearby Slytherins laughed. 

“Not, cool, Potter, let them go!” shouted a nearby Ravenclaw girl. 

“Do you take it up the arse like your fag brother, Potter?” snarled McLaggen, face red. 

“Think you’re funny, do you?” Albus said, voice deadly calm. “ _Rictusemptra_!”

Legs still wildly dancing, McLaggen began laughing manically. Almeda giggled nearby. Albus spared a glance around him. Almeda and Gemma had their wands out, holding the crowd at bay, keeping anyone from interfering or attacking Albus. The Ravenclaw girl looked to be frothing at the mouth. She was probably dating one of the bozos Albus had set to dancing. 

Rose let go of Lily in order to duck into the classroom, again calling for the Defense professor. Lily immediately took off, hurling herself at McLaggen. The pair fell to the ground. Albus quickly loosened his jinxes before McLaggen unintentionally hurt Lily. Lily screamed and threw everything she had into punching him in the face. 

“ _Furnunculus_ ” Albus cast lazily. McLaggen’s face was covered in nasty pimples when Lily’s fist hit him again. A wave of feral frenzy had overtaken his sister, but something more sinister had wormed its way into Albus. Albus could do worse to them, he knew. They were lucky to get away with a light brush of the humiliation they were so free to give. Albus saw it all so clearly, his rage ice in his veins where his sister’s burned like fire. Lily surrendered to her anger. Albus reveled in his, wielding it to his advantage. 

“What is the meaning of this? Miss Potter!” shouted Professor Killingsworth. With a wave of his wand, the jinxes were dispelled. The group as one pulled out their wands. “Down, gentleman! You will all report to your head of house. I’ve already sent word to Professor Longbottom, he will be expecting you. Your behavior today will not go unpunished. Yes, I know the role you lot played in this.” Rose stood behind the professor, head held high. “Miss Potter…You will serve detention for a week! What do you think you are, an imp? Off you go, girl! I expect to see you at seven sharp this evening.”

The Gryffindors trailed away, muttering threatening under their breaths. Lily held back her tears as she stomped in the opposite direction. Albus calmly waited, watching Professor Killingsworth. 

“As for you, Mr. Potter,” Professor Killingsworth said tiredly. “You do not attack other students, whatever they may be saying. You report to a teacher and let one of us handle matters. Fifty points from Slytherin, and you will also serve detention for a week with your sister.” 

“Yes, sir,” Albus agreed, not bothered by his punishments in the least. “They deserved it, though. I’m not sorry.” 

Professor Killingsworth sighed. “Be that as it may. Go see your head of house, as well.” As Albus nodded, grabbing his back from Scorpius, who held it out to him, he heard the teacher murmur, “for all the good it will do.”

* * *

“Held all five of them at once, did you, my boy?” chortled Professor Slughorn. “Yes, well, we certainly cannot advocate for such ‘brutish’ behavior. My, but you do have your mother’s gift with the jinxes, don’t you?” 

Albus smiled tightly. “Yes, sir.”

“And your father’s steadfast loyalty to friends,” agreed Slughorn. “Or brothers, as it may be. Well, one can hardly be blamed for defending one’s blood.” The professor shrugged. “Might I add, your finesse, and no disrespect to your parents, must have been taught by your godfather. How is Severus Snape?” 

“Fine, sir,” Albus said, wishing that name had not been brought up, and certainly not by means of comparison.

“Very good, very good. Well, I don’t know why Aloysius sent you to me. He’s already doled out all of the appropriate chastisements. A little harsh, as may be, but what can we do?” Slughorn said. “Say, I am hosting a little get-together the weekend your detentions end. You should join us. And feel free to bring a date.” Slughorn winked. “That Fawley girl is quite lovely.”

* * *

James was in the middle of packing when a knock sounded at the door. His mother had pre-labeled boxes for everything, which took a bit more effort than filling them willy-nilly. James cringed at the sound of breaking glass in the “kitchen” box. James peered into the box as he passed by, wrinkling his nose. “ _Reparo_?” he cast hopefully. Shards of glass clicked together as a second knock sounded. “Yes, I’m coming!” he called out. The pieces had gotten confused and now he had something half cup-half plate. He should have left it for his mother to sort out. 

“Teddy!” James was surprised to see the older wizard.

“Can I come in?” Teddy asked warily.

“Uh, sure,” James said. “Watch your head, I’m packing up.” Another wave of his wand set the living room in motion, all of the knick-knacks and throw pillows racing for the box in the middle of the room. 

“Moving?”

“Yeah,” James said. “My neighbor is Pansy Parkinson, apparently.”

“Ah,” Teddy said. “Did you invite her over for tea and gossip?”

“Did you come over just to fuss?” James shot back irritably. He was so tired of having all of the blame pinned on him. Especially coming from Teddy. Teddy should know him better than that. James wouldn’t have told anyone until they were both ready. 

“No. I’m sorry,” Teddy said, shoulder slumping. “I came to say, I want to be involved with the baby.”

James beamed. “I knew you would.” Teddy was not the type to abandon his own child. However James and Teddy felt about the pregnancy, they would both be there for their child. Neither could do anything else.

Teddy frowned, a coldness to his currently gray eyes. James’s smile faded. Right. That sounded bad, with what everyone believed. People really thought he would try to rope Teddy into staying with him by having a baby? What sort of idiot did a thing like that? No, James would have won Teddy over another way. The proper way. With romance. With charm and love and grandiosity. Not this deceit and manipulation. 

“It’s not like that,” James sighed. “Whether you believe me or not. I just meant…you’re a good man, Ted. I knew you wouldn’t want to be an absent parent.”

Teddy nodded. “You should know, Victoire and I broke up.” 

“Oh. I hadn’t heard,” James said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Did a whisper of hope leak into his voice? He hadn’t meant it to. Sure, he wanted Teddy all to himself, but he had been engaged to Victoire, his sweetheart for the past five years. It was understandable Teddy would be upset, and James could respect that. Particularly since their romance must not have ended in the best of ways. There was only one reason the pair would have ended things. No, not right to be pleased, or hopeful. Teddy would come to him in his own time, though preferably before the baby came. 

“Yeah,” Teddy said dully. “She ended things when the news broke. She didn’t believe it, but…I owned up to it.” Teddy shrugged. “It wasn’t right, to begin with. The least she deserved was the truth.” He shuffled his feet. “I really care about you, James. And I want to be a dad to our child.” James couldn’t fight his smile as he stepped closer to Teddy, but the other wizard lifted his hands to ward him off. “I care about you, James, but I can’t be with you. I’ll be here for the baby, but…” An apology in those gray eyes as they softened into a sad pale blue. “But that’s all there will be.” 

“But…” James said, voice weak. “Teddy, I love you!”

“James, we didn’t do this right,” Teddy said, pained. “This was all a mistake. And I’m sorry. I don’t want you to hurt. But…this isn’t right. We can’t be together. I’m sorry.” 

James shook his head, laughing, because it was better than crying. Teddy was just upset, he reminded himself. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He would come around eventually. “I’ve got to finish packing.” His household spells were not up to par in the best of times. His alarm clock flew out of his bedroom, crashing into the kitchen box, shattering more glass. 

“Here, let me help,” Teddy said quietly. He was much more adept at these sorts of spells, filling each box with its appropriate content, and even mending the deformed plate-cup. James manually filled the smaller box of books, not trusting himself with further spells, and needing the physical motion to settle himself. Surely by the time the baby came, Teddy would change his mind. They’d be a family. They’d be happy.

* * *

_ HARRY POTTER - HERO OR HEARTBREAKER? _

_Harry James Potter, aged forty two, husband and father, Head Auror, Savior of the Wizarding World. Beloved by many, Potter has maintained a reputation of strength, bravery, and loyalty. Wrongly named, it would seem. Add in terms such as “closeted homosexual” and “adulterer” and you’ll be closer to his true nature._

_According to sources, Potter has been engaged in an extramarital affair for the majority of his twenty-two year marriage. Not with attractive secretary, Fern Gullford, or ex girlfriend Cho Davies (nee Chang), or even close friend (and Minister of Magic), Hermione Granger. No number of beautiful witches caught Potter’s eye. The shocking truth is that Harry Potter’s tastes run towards fellow wizards._

_More shocking is the wizard whose bed Potter shares._

_Severus Snape, ex Death Eater, ex Potions Professor at Hogwarts (where he once taught Potter), spy during the Second Wizarding War, and current potioneer for St. Mungo’s Hospital, is the lucky recipient of Potter’s attentions. This is surprising for a number of reasons._

_First being, Snape is not what many would call an attractive wizard. He has not been known to have had any paramours in his life, though rumor has it he has picked up occasional bedmates from seedy bars, or else paid for their company. Potter has no shortage of willing bed partners, even among his preferred gender. Handsome Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps, Walter “Wally” Womple, once famously commented, “If Harry Potter ever decides to Beat for the other team, he knows where to find me.”_

_The second matter being the animosity between Snape and Potter during the latter’s schooldays. Every student to pass through Hogwarts between the years of 1991 and 1997 can attest to this. Myself have witnessed numerous encounters of vehement insults, threats, and if looks could kill, both would be long dead. Many were surprised, and skeptical, of the amiable relations the pair maintained after the end of the war. Severus Snape was even named godfather to all three of the Potter children. Despite this, insults and threats still abound._

_“Snape hexed him over lunch in my diner some seven years ago,” comments Elsa Twynam of the Happy Hippogriff in Mould-on-the-Wold. “Potter deflected it, of course, and threatened to have him arrested for attacking a law enforcement officer!”_

_Lovebirds hiding their affection with displays of violence? Or do Harry Potter’s kinks run darker than we think?_

* * *

A loud banging sounded on the front door of the Godric’s Hollow cottage. In the living room three people sat, staring at nothing, waiting. The knocking pulled them from their thoughts. Glances were exchanged. A nervous fluttering of slender hands as Ginny straightened her robes. Harry rubbed his mouth with a shaking hand. Severus tapped the heel of his boot softly against the hardwood floor, the other resting on his knee as one finger traced thin lips. The hollow silence rang loudly in their ears before the banging began again. 

Ginny licked her lips. Harry nodded his head. Severus reached over to give his knee a squeeze as Ginny slowly glided to the front door. The men locked gazes, taking comfort there as the door opened. 

“Gin!” Ron exclaimed, hugging his sister. “This is outrageous! I knew that Parkinson was always a bit of a cunt-”

“Ronald!” scolded Hermione. 

“-but this is low, even for a Slytherin!” Ron scrambled in after his wife. Hermione swiftly moved deeper into the house, taking a seat beside Harry on the couch. Hermione put an arm around Harry. Ron paced the living room floor, fresh copy of _The Evening Prophet_ clutched in one hand. 

“They’ve run some fairly ridiculous fabrications before, but this is a downright smear campaign against your family,” Hermione sternly said. “I don’t understand it. It can’t be all Parkinson.”

“She’s not half smart enough for it,” snarled Ron. 

“Someone is feeding her these tall tales,” Hermione said certainly. “Do you have any idea where she’s getting it?”

Harry glanced up at Ginny, where she stood off to the side, hugging herself. Hermione caught this exchange, face turning thoughtful as Ron continued to rant. 

“Malfoy, probably. He’s a right prick. But he always liked Snape, so I don’t know why he’d bring you into it,” he said, finally acknowledging his old professor. Ron scratched his chin. “Old Death Eaters, maybe? They’d like to see the lot of you burn. I know, we’ll put Pickens on it. See if he can weed out the snot behind this.”

“And what, Ron?” Hermione said absently as she glanced around the room, noting every subtle difference in the home she had not visited in months. “However much we like, we can’t punish people for spreading rumors.”

“She won’t shut down the paper,” Ron said mournfully to his sister, shaking his head. “Still, helps to know who to keep an eye on. If we can prove who it was, find the motive, put it out there, it’ll redeem you all and leave the _Prophet_ dead in a ditch. They’d never recover from it.”

“You’re separated,” Hermione said to Ginny. Ron whipped around to gape at his wife. “Harry’s touch is gone. His Quidditch books, the boots he always leaves lying around…it’s too clean. Not lived in enough. Harry’s moved out again, hasn’t he?”

Ron groaned. “Blast it. No wonder! Someone knew you separated and jumped to conclusions. Hell of a conclusion to jump to. Merlin’s beard.” Ron shook his head. “Well, at least this has you back on friendly terms, I see. You wouldn’t be here unless she’d calmed down, mate.”

Ginny didn’t scowl at her brother as she may have any other time. Instead she dropped her gaze to her shoes. Green eyes and black held each other for strength, even if bodies dared not touch. Hermione saw this and quickly looked away, clearing her throat. Ron looked around at everyone, bewildered.

“Someone say something!” His tone was exasperated. “Am I the only bloody person upset by this? You’re all just fine with them spreading this shite? Bad enough you’ve been so quiet about the James situation without you lying down and taking this one, too!”

“Ron,” Hermione said faintly. “We should leave.”

“What? No! Why?” 

Ron looked at each of them in turn once more. Ginny had turned her back, shoulders raised, body stiff. Hermione was standing up, motioning her husband towards the door. Harry dropped his face into his hand, rubbing between his eyes. Severus reached out, fingertips brushing his arm. Ron’s eyes flashed.

“No,” he breathed. 

“Ron, leave them be,” Hermione said, giving him a gentle tug. Ron shrugged out of her grip, staring wide-eyed at Harry. Severus was watching as Harry lifted his agonized face to Ron’s. His mouth opened, hoarse voice letting out the start of words that never left his lips. 

“You rotten slag!” Ron shouted, darting forward, fists raised. “No!” Hermione and Ginny shouted as fist connected with face. The force of it pushed Harry sideways off of the couch, Severus leaning forward to help him up. Harry scrambled to his feet, but Ron quickly grabbed the front of his robes, punching his stomach, his face again, as Hermione drew her wand. Ginny ran forward, arms wrapping around Ron’s waist, hauling him back. 

“Stop it, Ronald! Leave him be!” Ginny shouted.

“He cheated on you! He hurt you! _Stop defending him_!” Ron darted forward, pulling Ginny behind him as he advanced on Harry again. Hermione immobilized her husband while Severus pulled Harry into his arms and Disapparated with him.

* * *

They appeared in the middle of Severus’s living room, Harry clutching the front of Severus’s robes as he caught his breath. 

“Are you alright?” Severus asked, tenderly taking his face between both hands, examining the bruising. His glasses were broken, cheek swollen, jaw an angry red. Severus dropped one hand, sliding down his front, feeling at his ribs. Harry hissed in pain as his broken rib was brushed. Severus kissed his forehead, steering him to the couch. “Sit.” 

Harry removed his broken glasses, setting them on the arm of the couch. The screaming physical pain was but an echo compared to the gut-wrenching truth that his oldest friend now hated him. He couldn’t blame Ron for hating him, for wanting to hurt him. Harry deserved to be hurt. It was the least he was owed for all of the hurt he’d inflicted. 

Beneath that was the ominous fear, that yawning chasm of terror within and they were tumbling into the darkness. The truth they’d hidden so close for so long was out in the open now. Pinpricks on the back of his neck. An ice cube dropping into his chest, into his stomach. It was difficult to breathe. All they had worked so hard for, for so long. The carefully maintained facade. The grasp on that image of perfection wrenched away, too far from reach now. At least then he’d been able to cling to it, keeping all he wanted in his life close to his chest. Keeping Ginny, though he didn’t deserve her; keeping Severus, though they weren’t right together; keeping his name spotless; keeping the admiration and respect of the people in his life. He wanted it all, even if he didn’t deserve any of it. Hard to let go of what he’d clung to so desperately for so long. 

“Here,” Severus said softly, pressing a phial to his mouth. Without question, Harry parted his lips, swallowing the sheer blue liquid. “For your ribs,” Severus explained, sitting down beside him. There was a jar in his hand of a viscous brown paste that he dabbed onto Harry’s face. He massaged the paste into his skin carefully, longer than necessary. Finally Harry lifted his hand, grasping Severus’s wrist, holding it against his cheek. Severus swallowed. Harry turned his face, pressing a kiss to the palm, then lowering both of their hands between them, clasped together. Severus’s free hand reached out, cupping the back of his head, pulling him forward for Severus to press a long kiss to his head again. 

Easy to forget how wrong they were together when the taller man was so warm, so present. His nearness, his touch were a balm to his soul. Harry closed his eyes. 

Over the years he had forgotten just how right he felt when he was with Severus. Wide open, exposed, and vulnerable, yes, but right in ways that didn’t make sense. Severus saw all of the darkness in him, reaching out and stroking the awful beast within, slipping through the tangled, thorny vines to the raw, ugly Harry within. He brought out the worst in Harry, yes, but he also brought out the truth in him. There was something in his core that only Severus understood. It was that sight, that knowledge, that terrified him more than anything. 

Severus loved him for it. Loved him for all of the things he didn’t dare look at within himself. 

Harry clumsily kissed him, because it was easier than sobbing, easier than running away. Severus’s grip on him tightened, kissing him back hungrily, but only for a moment. Severus ripped himself away, breathing heavily into Harry’s ear.

“No, Harry,” Severus said. “Not now. Not like this.”

It had been years since they had been anything to each other but sex. Harry couldn’t remember whose fault it was. Whose fear of intimacy it was that drove them apart in every way but physically. Harry reluctantly nodded, burying his face in Severus’s neck. Arms and legs wound around one another, cramped and crowded in the corner of the couch. Hard to tell where one began and the other ended. Hearts beating as one, minds exhausted and blank, breathing together for a while.


	15. Between Hurting and Healing

It was not until morning that Albus had the misfortune of learning about _The Evening Prophet_ ’s latest article, and was immediately bombarded by similar news in the morning’s _Daily Prophet_. The newest one spoke at length about the question of whether Harry’s infidelity was influenced by use of love potions on Severus Snape’s end, citing the man’s long history of potion prowess, as well as a long history of loneliness and misdeeds. _”The Death Eaters were all rapists, weren’t they?”_ Marietta Dursley ( _Potter’s own cousin-in-law!_ ) was quoted as saying.

“Not a word,” Albus breathed, glowering at his house mates around him. Some expressions were wary, others sympathetic, but no Slytherin raised one word against their own. Think, Albus urged himself. Had to think. There was no way they had proof - that would have been mentioned. It was all hearsay, and as long as that was the case…

“Al!” sobbed Lily, running up to the Slytherin table. She whispered, “they know, how do they know?” Thankfully quiet enough for no other table to hear, but nearby Slytherins certainly did. Curious glances were exchanged, a few mutters flowing down the table. 

“Hush, Lil,” Albus hissed. “They don’t ‘know’ anything. It’s all rumors. Just like with James.” Here, Albus swallowed. He had told Lily the truth of their brother, showing her their father’s letter. “It’s a stupid rag. They’ll _lie_ about anything for a coin.”

Lily sniffled and nodded, shifting into a straighter stance. “I’m glad I punched that McLaggen. I’ll probably do it again. I don’t imagine he’ll keep his stupid mouth shut.”

“Oh, Lil,” Albus chuckled. “There are worse things we can do to Niall McLaggen.” 

Lily grinned, throwing her arms around him for a big hug. Albus looked around at his snickering friends, patting Lily awkwardly on the back. Once his sister trotted off, Almeda leaned in on his left with a diabolical grin. “So…What _do_ you have in mind for McLaggen.” 

“Oh, you’ll see.”

* * *

The day followed as was expected. Stares and whispers followed wherever Albus or Lily went. Between classes, Albus spotted Lily casting a nasty Bat-Bogey on a group of girls her year. Their mother would be proud, Albus thought with amusement. In Potions, Albus asked special permission to double brew - one cauldron for the assignment, and a second for personal use. Slughorn grinned, tapping the side of his nose with a wink as he agreed. “You’re a fairer potions master than even your father, or grandmother, for that matter. I think you’re up to the task, my boy!”

All through class, McLaggen and Finnegan made their comments, loudly whispered to whoever would listen when Slughorn’s back was turned. “Looks like James came by it honestly, folks. ‘Whore’ must be a family trait!” 

“Don’t forget ‘fag’,” snickered Finnegan. “Wonder what that says for ole Albus over there?”

“No wonder he and Mabel broke up!” chortled McLaggen. 

“Please, do be quiet, Niall,” Mabel said from the front of the class. She was turned around to face the two Gryffindors. “Bad enough you think that garbage is true without you making this lot buy into it, too.” Primly she turned back in her seat. Whispers broke out around her, from the front where she sat, to the back where Albus and McLaggen were brewing. 

“An awful big thing to lie about.” 

“Yeah, but can you imagine? Harry Potter and _Snape_? You know he and Ginny belong together!”

“If he was sleeping around with anyone it would be that Harpies chit, Carmen Flores.” 

“The whole family’s abnormal, you know,” huffed McLaggen to Imogen Davies. “For all we know, Albus Potter over here is really Snape’s kid!” 

Albus’s hand twitched as he was slicing his bat spleen. “Please,” scoffed Imogen Davies. Albus focused on his potions. McLaggen’s guess was truer than anyone could guess, but thankfully no one had latched onto that idea. 

When class ended, the other students filed out. Albus bottled up his assignment, floating it to Slughorn’s desk, as he continued brewing his second potion. He had a free period during which he would be able to finish. Slughorn hummed happily from his desk, examining the day’s work, then grading homework. It was a time before Albus noticed anyone was by him, and only when she began plucking the daisy petals. 

“Do I want to know what you’re making this for?” Mabel asked.

“I think you know,” Albus said, heart skipping at the sight of her. He hadn’t been near her in what felt like ages. She still wore the same perfume, something sweet, but also woodsy, like chocolate in a forest. 

“Hmm,” she said, dropping the petals into his cauldron. Next she pulled the mortar and pestle towards her to begin crushing the fairy wings. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” Albus shrugged.

Mabel scoffed. “You haven’t been fine in months, Albus. I can only imagine all of this has only made matters worse.”

Albus chewed the inside of his mouth. Picking up a few pomegranate seeds, he sprinkled them into the fairy wings. Mabel glanced up uncertainly, then continued crushing them down. Albus straightened ingredients on the work table. Without the recipe on hand, he’d forgotten where he should be. Ah, yes, the spider legs. Plucking up a dead spider, he began removing the legs. 

“Maybe it’s all the same problem,” Albus finally said. 

Mabel grabbed his arm, blue eyes wide. “All of it?”

Albus shrugged. “Most of it. Maybe.”

“Oh God,” Mabel whispered. She stood so that her arm brushed his as she continued crushing until it was all in a fine powder. “How do you feel?”

Albus shrugged again. Mabel rested her hand on his arm, the tension releasing from his body at her touch. “Betrayed. Sad. Angry. Scared. Lots of things. Some of them conflicting.” 

“I see,” Mabel said, pinching some of her dust and sprinkling in into the cauldron. Bit by little bit she rained the dust into the concoction until it turned an the unfortunate color of decaying flesh. It rather smelled like it, too.

“Honey, do you think?” Albus asked.

“And butterscotch, just to be safe,” she replied. “I’m assuming you’re slipping it into his drink. Naughty boy.” She helped him, anyway, until the potion was a more fetching golden brown. 

“I won’t ask you to spill all of the dirty details,” Mabel said, helping him clean up his workstation. “Which, you can, if you would like. But if you just want to talk, without giving the whole story, you’re welcome to. To talk to me, that is.” Her face turned pink. The scattering of freckles dusting her nose and cheeks were most fetching when she blushed. “I still care for you, Albus. And you should know that you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“I do have Scorpius, you know,” Albus pointed out. “And Almeda, and the rest.” Something dark flashed through normally bright blue eyes. “But…well…they’re not quite the same, I guess. You always make me want to spill my guts. All of them. Every last drop of me.”

Mabel fought a pleased smile. Their workstation tidied, Albus gathered his belongings and walked out of the classroom, bidding Slughorn goodbye. 

“Is that why you broke up with me?” Mabel asked. “To keep your secrets safe?”

Albus swallowed. “Something like that.” Exactly that, but more than that, as well. It was more than just his secrets he was protecting, but himself. How to explain that. How to tell sweet, perfect Mabel she terrified him. That her very warmth, understanding, and loyalty could reel him in and he could easily lose himself into her kindness. How to imply that for that fear to exist, he would have to allow for the possibility that she would betray him. 

Mabel nodded sadly. Of course, she would understand. She could empathize with anything short of murder. Albus felt like a fool. Mabel was the least likely of people to hurt a fly, let alone him. All the logic in the world didn’t drive away that bone-deep fear. 

“Thanks, May,” Albus said.

“Anytime,” Mabel said, kissing him on the cheek. “And I mean that!”

* * *

There was nothing Ginny wanted less than to walk into _The Daily Prophet_ office. She could easily avoid it for weeks, if she wanted. Her contributions could be sent by owl. Their various cubicles only existed to allow their reporters a space away from home to work. Ginny normally preferred this. There was no reason to show her face, no reason to expose herself to the unwanted attention. She could avoid the stares and the whispers, the overwrought sympathy, the direct questions, all of it. Ginny could hide in her house and never face any of it. No one would blame her.

Instead, Ginny walked in with her head held high. Ginny made eye contact with her coworkers as she greeted them. For years Ginny had presented a mask to the world, and she hid behind it now. Could they tell she’d been awake all night, screaming and crying? Perhaps she was paler than normal, her eyes redder, the circles beneath them more pronounced. Yes, perhaps it was fairly obvious. Padma Zabini couldn’t meet her gaze. Ezra Vickers smiled at her sadly. 

It was a long, difficult walk, but all things considered, Ginny had suffered worse. She felt exposed, as if all of her skin was pulled back, all of her nerves agonizingly brushed by every look and every word. Strangely, she also felt free. Finally, the weight of the years was gone. She barely knew how to move without the burden of it. No more hiding. For better and worse, it was out there, salvation and torment bundled closely. 

Ginny sat behind her desk, laying out her notes on the latest game between the Arrows and the Cannons. Everyone was staring. That was fine. Better than hiding, this. Better she should show her face, show her resilience, and refuse to let anyone defeat her. Her husband would not get the best of her, nor his lover. And if not them, then certainly not these spineless creatures murmuring amongst each other rather than speaking to her face. Adrenaline flooded her. Ginny had the power here and now. She had it because she refused to be cowed by them, refused to hide in shame. She was better than that. She was proving it to them, and proving it to herself. 

“Why, Mrs. Potter, I’m surprised you came today!” exclaimed Pansy loudly, sinking into the chair before Ginny’s desk. 

“I don’t know why,” Ginny said primly. “I work here.” 

“What with all of the unwanted attention, poor dear,” Pansy cooed, reaching out to pat her hand. Ginny calmly pulled it back, holding both in her lap. “This must be very hard for you.”

“It’s really not,” Ginny said. “I never let Slytherins win.”

“Oh, we’re much too old to fall back on schoolyard rivalries,” Pansy waved her hand. The blank sheet of parchment awaiting a Quidditch article was snatched by the brunette, Ginny’s best quill plucked, a jar of ink summoned from the drawer. Pansy dipped the quill into the ink as Ginny quirked her brow. “Is that why you and Harry separated? Because you don’t let Slytherins win?”

Ginny smiled grimly. “No, Ms. Parkinson. That’s why I stayed.” 

Pansy’s jaw dropped. This tidbit had been meant to come from Hannah Longbottom, but Ginny was high on her power now. If the story was meant to unfold, if this detail was meant to see the light of day, best Ginny herself deliver it unto the devil herself. This was absolution. 

“You’re saying…you’ve known?” Pansy asked quietly, twirling the quill between her fingers. Ginny just smiled until Pansy began scratching words onto the parchment. There was only one part of this story they would never share, for the protection of her children. At last Ginny could tell her story. What did it matter, that Pansy Parkinson would benefit? She was the tool by which Ginny achieved her goals. Ginny was in charge now.

* * *

James banged on the door of Severus Snape’s Falmouth home for a good quarter hour, shouting himself hoarse. He thought of Flooing in, or Apparating, but that was too personal. Besides, this was what Severus got, his neighbors peeking out disapprovingly. Let him be disturbed. James kicked the pot on the porch and Transfigured a leaf into a magpie, loosing it through the partially open window. 

Finally Severus threw open the door, clutching the immobilized bird in one hand. Features twisted by fury rearranged into a more guarded expression. “Jim.”

“It’s James. My name is James,” he snarled. Jim. He’d always hated it the nickname. 

“Very well, James.”

“You’re very reasonable.”

“Will you continue to be nasty from the doorstep, or would you rather be nasty indoors?”

“What? You want privacy?”

Severus frowned, glaring at his nosy neighbors. Silently he stepped back, beckoning James inside. Reluctantly, James entered, letting Severus shut the door behind him. James stuffed his hands into his pockets, holding himself stiff to keep from trembling. 

“Come to punish me at last?” Severus inquired, more curious than concerned. 

“Yes,” James spat. “This is your fault.”

“What, precisely, is my fault?”

“Everything!” James roared. “Everything wrong with my life can be traced back to you! I shouldn’t even exist! I was a mistake! Your biggest mistake!” 

“You flatter yourself,” Severus drawled. “I have made worse mistakes than your pitiful mind could dream of.” Dark eyes dropped to the floor. Thin lips pressed together tightly, a twitch in his hollow cheeks. “I do not number you among my mistakes at all, James.” The words were uncertain, quiet. James laughed. 

“Touching,” he mocked. “But I don’t believe you. I was never meant to be here. You didn’t want me. You foisted me onto my mum rather than parent me!” Dark light flashing in black eyes, mouth twisting into a terrible grimace. James tore forward, not giving him the space to speak. “I’m the reason you’re all so miserable. Dad wouldn’t have seen you if not for me. Mum wouldn’t have stayed when Dad cheated, if not for me. None of you wanted me! You made the best out of a bad situation. I’m the product of some torrid sexual deviancy, not a loving marriage! Just two people who can’t stand each other getting their rocks off together!

“But that’s not the worst of it, is it? It’s not just how I’ve ruined your lives. It’s how I’ve ruined everything around me! Career up in smoke, friends want nothing to do with me, and now the man I love is miserable because of me! Because of you! I’m like this because of you! I’m the other man! I broke up a relationship! I’m a selfish slag just like they say!” At some point James’s screaming turned to sobbing. “I love him so much.” Tears streamed down his face, arms opened wide, the physical expression of his frailty. “I’ve loved him for so long, and I wanted him so fucking badly. It didn’t fucking matter, anyone else. Not Vic. Not him. Not the family. Not anyone. I just had to have him. That’s so fucked up.” 

Severus carefully approached him, sorrow etched deeply into every line of his face. As he reached out, James began beating at his chest. “I’m a stupid whore! And it got it from you! It’s you! And now I’m pregnant because of your stupid potion, and because Dad was an idiot! And…” Severus enfolded him into his arms, and James’s own stopped their fighting, instead clinging tightly to the front of Severus’s robes. “And…I don’t know what to do. How am I supposed to be a dad? And Teddy doesn’t even want me anymore. I thought he would love me, but he doesn’t. I thought I could make him love me, but I can’t, and I ruined everything! I’m just like you. I hate you, I hate you both, I hate you so much.”

“Shhh.” Severus held his son close. “I know. It’s okay. You can hate me.”

James’s knees buckled, throat hoarse as he wailed. Severus clumsily moved them towards the couch, but James’s legs gave out, so Severus sank to the floor with him instead. James was heartbroken, and Severus’s heart shattered right alongside it.

* * *

Harry ducked behind an empty cauldron as yet another Howler exploded. 

“FILTHY SLUT. HOW DARE YOU CHEAT ON YOUR WIFE? YOU WERE OUR HERO. WE LOOKED UP TO YOU. FAME’S GONE STRAIGHT TO YOUR HEAD, HARRY POTTER. JUST BECAUSE YOU DEFEATED YOU-KNOW-WHO DOES NOT GIVE YOU FREE REIGN TO DO AS YOU PLEASE. YOU TOOK A VOW. NO BETTER THAN THE DIRTY DEATH EATER COCK YOU BEND OVER FOR!”

Harry sighed, too emotionally numb to care about the harsh words. He’d certainly heard harsher. Peeking out from behind the cauldron, he eyed the stack of Howlers quivering nearby. It had tripled in size since this morning. Not everyone had read the _Evening Prophet_ until morning. By now it appeared everyone knew of his sordid affair. 

As bad as the Howlers were, some of the letters and packages were worse. Harry’s left hand was still swollen from a substance sent by a once adoring fan. Severus had taken over weeding out anything poisonous. Any food item was promptly destroyed, no matter how sweet the notes. Fewer and farther between were the genuinely kind letters. Among them was a rather steamy bid from Wally Womple promising quite a rowdy night. Neville and Hannah sent their support, along with an open invitation for tea. The few others were closeted gay men leading similar lives (or so they thought), with one exception being Brian Buckle, who had an open marriage with his best-friend-slash-wife. None knew as much as they thought, but their words were a nice reprieve from the onslaught of vile, abusive tirades of once loyal admirers. 

They had woken up to the first of the Howlers at just after five in the morning. At some point in the night they had gone to bed together. Nothing untoward took place. Severus meant what he said, unwilling to take advantage of Harry’s emotional state, even as fragile as his own was. Instead they held one another close, saying not a word, sleep eventually coming for them both. 

Harry dreamed a pack of weasels swarmed his office at work, collectively dragging him out of his chair. They chattered threateningly as they pulled him along the corridors. Every witch and wizard they passed dissolved into yet more weasels, until enough had gathered to carry him on their backs. Once they reached the elevators, the doors opened directly over a cauldron of bubbling green sludge, emitting a green steam and an acrid smell. One of the weasels near his ear began shouting, “MR. HARRY POTTER, YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF.”

And that was when he and Severus jerked awake to the rest of the Howler. “I’M SURE MR. SEVERUS SNAPE IS WITH YOU. AND SHAME ON HIM, TOO. NASTY FREAKS! YOUR WIFE IS A GOOD WOMAN! TOO GOOD FOR THE LIKES OF YOU!” As the first Howler died into silence, Harry groaned and sank back into his pillow. Severus sighed and sat up. “I believe our day has begun, Potter. And I believe it has begun as it means to continue.”

* * *

Severus had been gone for a while, Harry noted presently as he checked his watch. The ceaseless banging on the door had driven him upstairs with promises to return swiftly. That had been fifteen minutes ago. Harry frowned. Could something have happened? An attack from one of the letter writers? Glaring at the Howlers, Harry darted past them and up the stairs, slamming the door to the basement just as another began its screaming. 

It took a moment for him to realize the sobbing was not coming from the basement, but from the living room. Frowning, Harry rushed towards the sound. In the middle of the floor sat Severus and James, his son crying brokenly into his father’s chest. Harry’s throat constricted as he leaned against the door frame. Severus held the boy tenderly, whispering soothing words to him. Steadily the crying began to abate. Harry’s chest ached, mirroring his son’s pain, but also swelling with such love, and with relief of tension he had not known still existed. Severus did love their son. Not merely in his own way, but truly cared for him, and was offering what comfort he knew how. 

Harry backed his way into the kitchen, quietly setting about fixing tea, and starting a pot of soup. Warm sustenance would do its part in healing James’s sorrow. For now he would leave Severus to his moment as a father. There was something indulgent in the way he tip-toed back to peak in on them. It was his third trip seeing helpless black eyes fall upon him, insecure and fearful. Harry offered him a reassuring smile and went back to his cooking. Severus had this well in hand, whether he realized or not.

* * *

_ WHAT GINNY POTTER KNEW _

_Tall, athletic, beautiful, talented, brave, strong - what more could a man ask for in a wife? Extra appendages, if you are Harry Potter._

_But perhaps Ginny Potter is not all she’s cracked up to be? Tall, athletic, and beautiful, yes. But brave? Strong? Can we call a woman such things if she stands idly by while her husband conducts extramarital relations with, not only another man, but a man you both hate?_

_It is Ginny herself who admits her culpability. “I don’t let Slytherins win. I certainly don’t let them win my husband,” was her witty rejoinder. Necessary wit, to cope with her failure. Not only does Mrs. Potter resort to school year biases (as a Gryffindor alumnus herself), but displays a piteous desperation to keep a husband who strays._

_“I’ve known for years,” Ginny admits. “But Harry is my husband. He always came back to me.”_

_Even if your husband is Harry Potter himself, I hope all of our female readers have the self-respect and self-love to leave their philandering spouses. Here at the_ Prophet _we sincerely hope Ginny can find her own self-worth and finally end her sham of a marriage. No one deserves to be betrayed by the one they love. May our Ginny one day find a suitable partner to share her days with. Surely someone out there is worthy of her unwavering, albeit foolish, loyalty._


	16. The Lightning Strikes

_ POTTER AND SNAPE CAUGHT _

_As you see in the image above, Harry Potter and Severus Snape were caught kissing in Snape’s back garden. Photo evidence was provided by Snape’s next door neighbor, Mrs. Millicent Goyle. The pair was engaged in a very stern discussion, ending when Potter grabbed Snape and began the rather passionate snog._

_According to another neighbor, Mrs. Dodie Doolittle, the pair sank onto the garden bench for a bit more than a snog, but this was refuted by Mrs. Goyle. Believe what you will of where that kiss led, but one thing is for certain - no longer can anyone deny the relationship between the two men._

* * *

“You can’t really tell it was staged, can you?” Harry asked, tilting the paper to give Severus a view of their photo.

“It looks as if we very well shagged on the bench right after,” Severus mused. Harry folded the newspaper and swatted him with it. 

“If people really think that…” Harry muttered.

“They’ll believe anything.”

* * *

_ POTTER FRIENDS KNEW OF AFFAIR _

_Hannah (landlady, Leaky Cauldron) and Neville (Herbology Professor, Hogwarts) Longbottom, both forty-two, both longtime friends of Ginny and Harry Potter, have always known of the ongoing entanglement between their dear friend and past teacher._

_“Er, yes,” Mr. Longbottom says. “They…err…Well, to be frank, we witnessed a few…err…encounters. They were our friends, so of course we didn’t tell anyone.”_

_“Obviously they needed someone to rely on,” Mrs. Longbottom continues. “Someone to confide in. We provided that for them. It wasn’t as if they could tell anyone else, seeing as how their other friends are also family.”_

_According to the Longbottoms, they have both counseled the Potters towards a healthier marriage, advice neither took. Mr. Potter continued his relations with Mr. Snape, continued his marriage to Mrs. Potter, while Mrs. Potter refused to leave. Despite this obstinacy, the Longbottoms maintained close friendship to the couple, keeping their secrets and offering their aid._

_“Harry did eventually stop…err…what he was doing,” Mr. Longbottom claims. “They ended things a few years ago. It’s only recently, since the separation, that anything started up again.”_

_Indeed, months before the news broke, the Potters separated. It is unclear why, if the affair was not to blame, as the Longbottoms believe._

* * *

“There’s only so much more we can give them,” Ginny sighed. “This will have to be enough.” 

Harry shrugged, offering a grateful smile as she placed a cup of tea in front of him. “We have almost twenty years of details we can feed them. Don’t worry.”

* * *

_ THE POTTER’S SEPARATION - IS SNAPE TO BLAME? _

_Our devoted readers have been sending in their own theories as to why the Potters have separated after so long. Finally, after weeks of silence, Mrs. Ginevra Potter speaks out._

_“Harry stopped cheating on me six years ago,” she claims. “If you must know, we separated because my therapist has suggested it numerous times over the years. It finally clicked to me that we needed time apart, to decide if this is still what we want. It’s time I saw what else was out there for me, and gives Harry a chance to see if things between him and Snape can work out. That’s it! Just two people trying to decide if they want to stay married or not. People do this all the time! Stop looking for trouble!”_

_It is suspicious to us why, after so long, Mrs. Potter has finally decided to part ways with her husband, even if only temporarily. It may be that this trial separation is only to give both partners an “excuse” to play the field. Why settle on the one broomstick when there are newer, faster models available? For a woman so eager to hold onto her cheating husband, it is awfully convenient for her to decide this now. Is it a ploy to hold the moral high ground while also taste-testing the menu?_

* * *

“They’re not wrong,” Ron muttered. “This just makes you both look like greedy slu-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Ronald,” Ginny snapped as Hermione exclaimed, “Ron, don’t you dare!”

Ron huffed, tossing the paper into the bin.

* * *

_ ARE THE POTTER CHILDREN ACTUALLY THE SNAPE CHILDREN? _

_It was 18 June 2007 when Severus Snape revealed his newest creation, the Masculo Praegnatio, a potion that would grant a male the ability to become pregnant by another male. At the time, his “test subject”, Oscar Odell, had given birth to twin girls, Opal and Onyx, with husband Alucard. The release skyrocketed him into worldwide renown, particularly within the Potions community, as well as the homosexual community._

_Potions research can take decades to complete, and we have to wonder - was Oscar Odell really the first man to give birth? Or did Severus Snape have test subjects prior to this? His lover, Harry Potter, would have made a convenient object of research._

_In the later months of 2003,_ Witch Weekly _reported on apparent weight gain by the Boy-Who-Lived, sparking outrage and accusations of body shaming. Almost immediately, Harry Potter had his trim figure back and his wife was announcing her pregnancy with their first child. 13 April 2004, James Sirius Potter was born. The Potters went on to welcome Albus Severus Potter on 9 January 2006 and Lily Luna Potter on 15 December 2008._

_With her red hair and freckles, Lily Luna cannot be denied her Weasley heritage. But what of the boys? Albus’s second name, Severus, was always for his godfather - or perhaps just his father? Albus Severus is a carbon copy of Harry himself, but James we must question with his hawkish nose and black eyes. Familiar, do you think?_

_It is very possible Harry Potter was given the first samples of the Praegnatio, with one, if not two, sons to show for it. Turn to pages 15-17 for side-by-side photos of the Potter boys and their possible fathers. We’ll let you decide for yourselves._

* * *

James yawned widely as he directed several boxes through the doorway. One box scraped against the ground in its journey inside, others bumping their edges into the frame, only two missing their target altogether and hitting the wall beside the door. James blinked wearily down at them, stifling another yawn. 

“It never ceases to amaze me, your gift for complex charm work, yet such a lazy grasp of household spells,” Severus drawled, appearing in the doorway. A wave of his wand gathered the fallen boxes, sending them drifting inside with the others. 

“It’s early,” James defended petulantly. The sun was only just beginning to rise. Due to the volume of items he was moving, it had been necessary to take the Knight Bus. It was also prudent to conduct this move in the early hours, before tattle-taling neighbors woke and poked their cameras out of their windows. They were feeding the press enough rumors, without prompting any outside of their control. The sun was just starting to rise when Severus beckoned him inside and James obediently shuffled in. 

His boxes were stacked neatly beside the door, taking up too much space in the cramped house. More cramped now that an additional room had been added. It was rather clumsily done, owing to the inexperience of all involved. One would usually hire a professional to magically expand homes, but none wanted any questions asked. It was Severus and Hermione working together who created the new room that was to be James’s, upstairs near Severus’s. Harry and Ginny had accidentally blown a hole in the wall in their over-enthusiastic attempts. 

“Do you require sustenance?” Severus asked awkwardly.

“I require sleep,” James replied. 

The boxes were levitated once more, James’s zooming about haphazardly while Severus’s followed one another in a straight line. Upstairs, they sent what James would need presently, the contents of his bathroom and bedroom. The other household goods, Severus sent up into the attic, where they would remain until they got James on his feet in his own home. 

“Thanks, Severus,” James said, a flick of his wand causing the boxes to snap open, their contents spilling all over the room. Clothing fell into a jumble on the closet floor, his blankets and pillows falling higgled-piggledy onto the bed. A crook of Severus’s own wand had at least the sheets stretching out properly on the mattress. “You’d make a good housewife. I dunno why Dad didn’t just marry you.”

“Hush,” Severus said darkly. 

“Sorry, sorry,” James sighed, self-conscious in the way he scratched the back of his head. 

At that moment, a hoot sounded as a brown owl fluttered in through the open window. _The Daily Prophet_ was dropped into Severus’s outstretched hand, and in a smooth movement the man deposited a knut into its waiting bag. The owl was in and out in under a minute. James walked over to look as Severus unfolded the paper, blinking at the front page news. 

“Ah,” Severus said. 

“Bloody hell,” sighed James, tossing himself onto the bed, arm thrown across his face, the other, resting protectively on his swollen belly.

* * *

The offending article was delivered to the Potter residence in Godric’s Hollow around the same time, but little mind was paid to it. Ginny tossed it onto the counter without a glance. There was nothing of interest to be printed today, or so Ginny believed. There were more important matters to focus on. 

Harry, her guest, sat at her new dining room table. The stubble on his jaw, even the circles beneath his eyes, were fetching. She’d always thought so. It added a rugged edge to his normally clean-cut image. It brought her back to his first few years as an Auror, throwing himself fully into cases, bringing escaped Death Eaters to justice, his passion to right wrongs. By that time he had learned how to channel all of that anger inside of him, putting that energy into his work, and working off the excess in the bedroom. It was the sexual aspect of his anger Ginny had always reveled in. She had thrown her own into their sexual encounters from time to time. 

Difficult to be turned on by the memory of that whirlwind in the wake of the previous night. 

“You haven’t changed your mind, then?” Ginny asked, voice scratchy. Her arms were wrapped around her chest protectively. 

Harry smiled sadly. “I’m sorry.” 

The night before, Harry had asked to meet with her. Ginny assumed it was another strategy in their ongoing war with the world. Ginny fixed snacks and wine, stacking their numerous articles on the end table. She was grounded, energized. They were a team, and this was where they had always thrived. Ginny enjoyed their recent meetings, regardless of their romantic separation. It made her feel alive. It reminded her of their strength, together. It reminded her of why she stayed all of these years. 

Only, Harry had not come for media plots. “I think we should get a divorce.”

A sick feeling in her chest. “We still have three months left, Harry.”

“I know,” he said. Gnawing grief beneath firm determination. The green dug too deeply into her until she had to glance away from him. She couldn’t bear to see it, to see so clearly how lost they were. “I love you, Ginny. These past weeks have been…they’ve been us. We’ve always been good at this. We’ve always made a great team, Gin. I love you for it. I love this.” He didn’t reach out for her, though she wanted him to. She could tell he wanted to take her hand, to pull her into his arms. Ginny knew him well enough to see his energy vibrating with the urge, though he denied it. Likely it was for the best. “You are my best friend. And how I’ve treated you over the years has been…where’s a thesaurus when you need one? Is there a stronger word for ‘deplorable’?” Ginny cracked a smile, though the amusement was only surface-level. Hollowness inside, unable to feel, unable to think, too shocked to react to anything. 

“You deserve better. You always did,” Harry said. “Severus and I don’t work. We can’t be together. I see that now.” His eyes were red, but dry. “I love him. I’m so in love with him, I can’t stand it. I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s too much. When I’m with him, I can’t think, I can’t…” He shook his head. “But that doesn’t matter. I don’t know if love should be this intense, but I do know that I can’t be with you when I feel this way for him. Because I…” His mouth moved, but the words never came.

“Because you never felt that way about me,” Ginny finished for him torpidly. 

Harry closed his eyes and nodded. “It’s not fair to you. You deserve someone to love you…well…enough. Love you right.” He swallowed. “You’re…special. And I’ve been selfish, keeping you to myself when…when I can’t give you what you need.”

“Please stop talking,” Ginny said. 

Harry closed his mouth. There was more he wanted to say, she could tell. She could see the words swimming in his eyes. He would tell her how wonderful she was, he would list the ways. He would lament his desire to come crawling home, but how he wouldn’t do that again. Maybe he would express his regrets that he would lose her and his lover, too, that he would be alone now. He didn’t deserve to unload on her this way. In fact, how dare he?

Ginny left him sitting there, walking in a daze to the bathroom. Hair and teeth were brushed, face washed, trading her daytime robes for nightclothes. When eventually she drifted back downstairs, Harry still sat where he had been on her couch. He watched her entrance, waiting. 

Then, she snapped. Spells threw the photos from the walls, smashing the lamp into the wall, books crashing into the floor. Ginny screamed at him, calling him every nasty name in the book, telling him how much she hated him, how awful he was, how she was glad he couldn’t have Severus, glad he couldn’t have anyone. Ginny wanted him to hurt. None of her words cut through him, though. He watched her sadly the whole time.

And when she collapsed to the floor, sobbing, he sank to the floor and crawled to her, pulling her against him. It didn’t matter that he was the cause of her pain. It didn’t matter, any of the horrible things he had done. He was still her Harry. He was still her partner. He was still the person who knew her best. 

“How could you?” she wailed into his ear. 

When she was good and exhausted, Harry carried her to bed. When she beckoned him to join her, he hesitated, carefully peering into her face, seeking the truth. Sensing that she did indeed want him there, Harry slipped in beside her, wrapping her in his arms. 

Neither slept that night, though they pretended to. They rose by unspoken agreement at five in the morning. They knew James was moving in with Severus today, a fact that still stung Ginny. It made the most sense. Of the three of them, Severus would be the least likely person for James to turn to, the least likely place for anyone to look. That didn’t make it easier to swallow that he had been James’s first choice. 

Ginny fixed tea while Harry served a light breakfast of toast and eggs. Neither could stomach much more than that. She cleaned the dishes after. Harry waited for her at the table, waiting until she was done with him. When the paper arrived, Ginny didn’t glance at it. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t be worse than what was happening now. 

“I should have been the one to leave,” Ginny stated, returning to her seat. 

“Yes,” agreed Harry.

“Selfish of you to take that, too,” Ginny mocked. She meant it more teasing, but bitterness leaked into the words. Harry’s eyes dropped shamefully. Ginny swallowed.

“You can do it now, if you like,” Harry offered jokingly. “I take back what I said.”

“Good,” Ginny agreed. “Harry, I want a divorce.”

“Alright, then.”

Laughing felt better than crying, so they both laughed. They tears could have been from anything, really. Ginny hiccuped, fanning her face in an effort to calm herself. Harry was snickering into his tea. 

“I’m done with your philandering ways, Harry Potter!” Ginny gasped, grinning at him. “I hope you both rot in hell. May you never darken my doorstep again. Unless it’s to pay child support.”

“Cheers,” Harry laughed. 

“Oh god, we’re going to have to work out custody,” Ginny groaned. “D’you wanna wait a few more years?”

Then Harry laughed truly, pure and bright. Ginny giggled, snatching up the paper for the crossword. The laughter died in her throat as she clutched the paper tightly. Harry frowned. 

“How?” Ginny breathed. 

“What? Gin? What’s wrong?”

Ginny gaped at him over the top of the paper. “Our boys.”

“What?” Harry was on his feet, snatching the paper from her hands. “No. Oh no.”

“Our poor boys.”

“No, no, no.”

“How do they know?”

“Shite.”

“Harry, _how_?”

“I’m owling Severus,” Harry announced grimly. “We have work ahead of us.”

“If I don’t murder you both first,” Ginny snarled.

“You can murder me _after_ we fix this,” Harry snapped, grabbing a spare parchment and quill.

“Now I really _do_ want a divorce.”

“Not helping, Gin.”

“I don’t want to help, I want to rip your head off! This is all your fault! We were trying to avoid this! Our children are going to suffer because of _you_!”

“Then I guess Severus and I will meet without you, then!”

“The hell you are! These are _my_ children!”

“Then shut up and help me fix this!”

“FINE!”

“Good!”

“Fuck,” Ginny sighed, rubbing her face. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Write to Snape. I’ll go rip off Pansy Parkinson’s head instead.” She sank into the nearest chair as Harry chortled. She felt silly for going off on him in that way. She knew neither Harry nor Snape wanted this information out. They cared about the boys just as much as she did. Wanted to protect them all. They were not the enemy, and it was the enemy Ginny needed to focus on.

* * *

Albus did not need the see the news himself. News had broken out early over breakfast, before Albus and Scorpius could meet in the Great Hall. Almeda delivered the news to them personally, staring at Albus as though she had never seen him before. All of the blood drained from his face, absently thanking Almeda for telling him. 

Together, Albus and Scorpius left the castle. They were halfway to their destination when the front doors burst open, Mabel Longbottom running after them with her bag bouncing unsupported around her elbow. In her haste to follow, she had not properly worn it. The boys were sitting under their favorite tree when Mabel caught up, shaking her head, out of breath. “Too…open…c’mon.” 

Silently the boys stood to follow her. Mabel walked quickly, hand pressed against a stitch in her side, still sucking in air. Albus took her bag from her, throwing it over his shoulder. He had let his feet carry him to his tree, but Mabel was right. It was a popular area, out in the open. He’d be an easy target there, however homey that old tree had become over the years. 

Greenhouse One was the building Mabel led them into. Nothing dangerous here, only a few shrubs and flowers that tinkled and danced from time to time. Mabel Transfigured a pair of gloves on the table into a large blanket with the same floral pattern. Scorpius helped her spread it onto the floor before the three sank down onto it. 

“Eugene is with Lily,” Mabel informed them, unloading the food she’d stuffed into her bag. “He’ll stick by her all day, keep an eye on her.”

“I didn’t even think of her,” Albus sighed, rubbing his face. “I didn’t think of anything.”

“That’s a new one,” Scorpius mumbled.

“She’ll be fine,” Mabel assured him. “You’ll bear the brunt of it, I’m afraid.” Mabel gazed at him, as if she wanted to ask, as if she was seriously considering the question. Albus couldn’t meet her eyes, instead ripping into a cranberry and orange scone. “You always have me, Al. And Scorpius, of course. My brother is always here for you, too, you know. And for Lily, too, we all are.” Better than Eugene was with Lily now, rather than here with them. He was young and in Lily’s house. “And Dad, of course. You won’t be in this alone, Albus, I promise.”

“I know,” Albus whispered, still tearing his scone into pieces, only popping one small bit into his mouth, chewing it for a long time. The trio ate their meal quietly. Mabel’s knee was brushing his. The front of her robes were covered in crumbs; she was always a messy eater. Out of habit, Albus reached out to brush them off of her. Mabel smiled at him. 

“It’s true,” Albus said after a while, gulping down his pumpkin juice. “Severus is my dad.”

Scorpius, who already knew, just nodded. Mabel sucked in a breath. “Oh.” She nibbled on another sausage just for something to do with her mouth while she thought. “How…how do you feel about that?”

“I dunno. I was fine with it, for years,” Albus said in a rush. “I thought it was kind of cool. Especially when I was Sorted into Slytherin. I had that in the back of my head ‘hey, your other dad is a Slytherin, it’s okay. He’s probably really proud.’ And I found out so young. I…it was fascinating.” He ducked his head, shamefaced. “I was so fucking self-satisfied. I had this really interesting heritage that no one else knew. It was the big family secret that not even James and I were supposed to know. And I found out. Wasn’t I clever, finding out? Wasn’t I special, for the way I was born?” He rubbed his hands together, eyes and throat burning. “How fucking pathetic, you know? I always liked secrets, liked knowing what other people didn’t. I felt like I was important, keeping quiet. Y’see, even my parents didn’t know I’d found them out. No one knew anything. I was the only one who knew the whole of it, or so I thought.” 

Mabel and Scorpius scooted closer on either side of him, arms coming up around him. Scorpius watched him, ready to offer reassurance when needed. Mabel rested her head on his shoulder, offering what closeness and comfort she could. 

“Last Christmas I saw my dads together, though,” Albus admitted. “Kissing. I always thought James and I came around when Mum and Dad were separated, you know, all proper like? And mum was just the saint who agreed to help out, not blaming Dad for things he did when they were apart. But it wasn’t like that at all. Dad and Severus kissed and it was…passionate. Really…you could see the sparks there, you know, like they’d never died. Dad made it stop, said he was trying to be faithful to Mum, but he had only stopped a while ago. He had been cheating on Mum for a good chunk of time before that. I dunno why it never occurred to me they were doing that to my mum.

“Sure, Severus and Mum never got on much, but they were cordial. Dad and Severus were always friendly. But Mum…she and Dad were always so loving. They were always so happy together. They’re playful and they go on dates and they’re always talking about Quidditch or music or anything, really. They kiss and hold hands and dance and all of the things really happy couples do. Everyone thought they were the perfect couple, right? Well, so did we. It never…I never thought of it. But there it was right in front of my eyes, Dad and Severus. And they…they loved each other. Love each other still, I mean to say. I felt so stupid. And I was so angry. It was all I could think about, for a while. 

“It was so much more real, then. It was always so easy for me, to hide things, but this…it was too big. Too real. It was driving me mad. And then…I…I confronted Severus about it, you know, and…and then it was even _more_ real. And I…I saw James…I saw him with Teddy. They were…kissing, and such, and I snapped. I was outraged, for Victoire, for Mum…I just saw them and I hated them for what they were doing, and it made me hate Dad and Severus even more. 

“And I hated myself. Because my mum, she was probably hurting, too, you know. And here I was, just okay with it all. Because you know the worst part? The very worst? Part of me _wanted_ Dad to be with Severus. They’re my real parents, them, and they still love each other, and I…I dunno. I loved my mum, but I just…I dunno. It was in my head. I just…really wanted them to give it a go.” Tears trickled down the sides of his nose, gathering at the tip where his head was bowed, falling into his lap. “I wanted to be a proper family with them. I daydreamed about it, sometimes. 

“And Mum…she raised me. She loved me, even though I wasn’t hers. She put up with all of Dad’s cheating. She was the strong one, the one holding our family together, loving us all through everything. And I was betraying her just as much as anyone else. Mum deserves so much better than Dad, so much better than _me_. I was so confused, I didn’t know what to do.” Albus sniffled and rubbed the wetness from his face, shifting to sit up straighter. Mabel moved with him, molding her body beside his, never parting. 

“So I blurted it out, when I saw James and Teddy,” Albus said, voice calmer. He sniffed again. “It just all came rushing out of me. And I hated myself for that, too. James blew up and left and…that was when everything turned into a mess. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t said anything…” Albus shook his head. 

“It’s not your fault,” Mabel whispered. “You didn’t do anything but tell the truth. They were the ones hiding from the truth. They are the ones at fault. Your parents. James and Teddy. None of it is on you, Albus.”

“It is, though. I was supposed to keep it safe,” Albus argued.

“Hush now, love,” Mabel said, kissing his cheek. “This is none of your doing. Your parents really bollocksed this up.” Albus and Scorpius laughed. It was always funny when Mabel cursed, though she did it fairly often. The words never quite fit with her sweet nature. She smiled at them amused, knowing the reason for their laugh. “This is their mess. They should have been honest with you, with each other. They’re the ones cheating and lying. This is their mess, not yours.”

“Yeah, but I helped them hide it. And I wanted…I wanted,” Albus gestured, unable to confess it a second time.

Mabel squeezed him. “That’s only natural, my love. It doesn’t make you a bad person. They’re your biological parents. Of course you’d be curious. That doesn’t mean you love your mum any less, or don’t want her in your life. Does it?”

“No. I love my mum. She’s the best,” Albus said.

“See?” Mabel said. “You’re being too harsh on yourself.”

“You can’t help what goes on in your own head, mate,” Scorpius added. “You didn’t do anything about it, did you? Did you?” he asked suspiciously.

“Of course not!” Albus exclaimed.

“Well, see, then,” Scorpius said. “No harm done. Just because I thought of hexing Rowan Wood when he was dating Rose didn’t make me a bad person, did it?”

“No,” Albus begrudgingly admitted.

“I mean, I thought of it good and long, though,” Scorpius said cheerfully. “I even thought of poisoning him in Potions, once. I was just flipping through my book and thought ‘I only need five days for this one! Five days and he’ll boil alive from the inside over dinner!’ I never actually did it, though. But I had a very thorough plan in place, just in case.” 

Albus pressed his lips tightly together, cheek twitching. Mabel covered her mouth, giggling into it. She snorted pig-like, causing Albus’s mouth to quirk up against his will. Her body trembled against his. Scorpius grinned unabashedly. 

“They broke up before I had to do anything. Stupid wanker.” 

Talking to his friends, Albus was beginning to untangle the mass of thorny vines that had been twisting around him for nearly a year now. All of the conflicting emotions - the fear, the hope, the anger, the sadness, the guilt, the shame, and every moment of joy that only reinforced all the bad. Wrong to be happy at all, when things were so bad. Wrong to miss his fathers, wrong to enjoy his dad’s company at all after everything, wrong to be pleased by that photo of his fathers kissing. Albus finally let himself laugh, if only to avoid crying. 

“I’ve been so messed up by the whole thing,” Albus admitted. “That’s why I broke up with you, May. I didn’t want to tell you everything, but I knew I would, eventually. You’re so easy to talk to. I could spill all of my secrets, and all of the secrets that are not mine, and I would comb the earth to find more to tell you. But it was more than that. I’m scared. I don’t know how to be with anyone. I don’t want to hurt the way they hurt, or to hurt anyone that way. I don’t want to be like James. I don’t want to trust anyone or rely on anyone or confide in anyone. I’ve never been so terrified in my life and I didn’t know what to do about it. I still don’t.”

“Yes, I had that feeling, when the whole affair came out,” Mabel said. “I can’t imagine what that must be like.” Her own parents would never do what his own had done. Neville would never dare cheat on Hannah. He adored her too much. Even if he didn’t, he had more respect than to do so. Hannah, in turn, would never put up with it. Mild as she was, she was known to put her foot down over right and wrong.

Then again, most people might have said the same about his own parents. 

“Me, either,” Scorpius said. “I never loved anyone but Rose. And Dad never loved anyone but Mum.”

“That doesn’t make them bad people, though,” Mabel said. “They just did bad things. They’re still your parents. They still love you.”

“That doesn’t make it easier,” Albus sighed. “Makes it worse, I think. You expect better from them. All of them.” 

“Yes,” Mabel agreed. “But you should talk to them about it. When you’re ready. Just be open-minded, okay?”

Albus shrugged. Mabel giggle-snorted again. “Well, whatever you do, I’ll be here for you. Whether we’re dating or not.” She smiled sadly. “Don’t get me wrong. I was sad. I’m still sad. But you have to take care of yourself, and if you’re not ready, I understand. We were friends before we started dating, though. I’d like to stay friends, if that’s alright?”

“It’s more than alright,” Albus said quietly, gratefully. “It’s perfect.” 

“And I’m always your best mate,” Scorpius piped in. “Even when you are a git.”

Albus laughed. “That is also perfect.”

It wasn’t until Neville Longbottom walked in to prepare for a morning class that they gathered up their belongings. Neville greeted them without surprise. He made no comments about the Potter drama, but did suggest a mysterious room on the seventh floor that would act as a good hiding place, should they need one. And if he heard of Mabel skipping her morning classes, well, he would understand.

* * *

That night’s war room took place at Godric’s Hollow, with James joining his parents. They sat at the dining room table. Harry nursed a cup of tea, Ginny and Severus with their wine, with James preparing himself a serving of ice cream on toast. No one else noticed, at first, as James rummaged through the freezer. It was only as he was spooning butterbeer ice cream onto his nearly burnt bread that Harry laughed.

“I craved that when I was pregnant with you,” Harry said. 

“Yeah?” James grinned. 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Your mum was thrilled. Our freezer was packed with ice cream for months. Every flavor you could think of. I accidentally had it in public once. Ordered breakfast with a milkshake, spooned my milkshake onto my toast. Had to explain that I was supporting my wife’s cravings, so Ginny had to eat some, too.” 

Ginny laughed. “I nearly forgot that. I wanted to throttle you.”

“Are we going to reminisce or are we going to get to business?” Severus coldly interrupted. 

“Yes, please, stop the funny stories so we can talk about the rotten stuff,” James grumped. Harry and Ginny’s laughter had sobered up, gazes falling to the newspaper spread out in the middle of the table. 

“It just came out honestly, do you think?” Ginny asked. “No one slipped up?”

Harry shrugged. “We should have known they’d connect the dots. The man I’ve been screwing for twenty years so happens to have invented a male-pregnancy potion.”

Severus swirled the wine in his glass, watching the dancing of the liquid. It was the only sign of his discomfort. “We certainly should have anticipated this.”

“Doesn’t help that I favor you,” James added. “Just…handsomer, you know.”

Severus snorted. Ginny hid her grin behind another sip of wine. Harry nudged Severus’s foot beneath the table with his own. James grinned. 

“You favor your fath-Harry more,” Ginny told him. “Only more ‘exotic’.” 

“Thank Merlin for that,” Severus muttered.

“Oy! You’re not so bad, y’know,” Harry chuckled. “My taste isn’t that awful.”

“Oh no, Mr. Potter, it certainly is,” Severus replied.

“Awful,” Ginny agreed, but her amusement faltered in the face of the soft gazes exchanged by both men. James chewed a large bite of his ice cream toast, frowning thoughtfully as he watched him. Watched Harry shyly smile and glance away, the twitch of Severus’s cheek that spoke of the smile he held back. 

“So what do we do?” James asked, mouth still full. 

“I don’t think we can do anything,” Ginny sighed, pouring herself another glass of wine. Harry’s eyes fell to it longingly. Ginny shifted her glass farther out of reach, movement practiced. “Don’t comment on it. Best we can hope for is that some people won’t believe it.”

“Should we…own up to it, do you think?” Harry suggested. “It’ll die down faster without giving people time or room to speculate. Just rip off the bandage, get it over with.”

The foursome fell into the thoughtful silence, only the sound of James’s chewing disrupting it. After a time, the rustling of paper joined it as Harry turned to pages 15 and 16. Photos of James between photos of Harry and Severus, then again between Harry and Ginny. The same with Albus and Lily on pages 16 and 17. 

“We can’t exactly deny it,” Harry said quietly. Ginny leaned back in her chair, refusing to look at the evidence. Severus sighed. 

“I say we leave it be,” James said, scooping up melted ice cream on his dry crust. “I’m tired of talking and talking and playing games. Just…let’s move forward, maybe? Nothing will make them stop talking. We just should stop engaging with it.”

No one had a response to this. James had the feeling they weren’t ready to. They weren’t giving up just yet, on finding a way around this. They’d spent so long clutching the truth to their chests, they didn’t know how to let go. James hid his own smile. They’d learn eventually. 

“I’m knackered,” James said, pushing himself to his feet. “I’ll meet you at home, Pops.”

Severus’s forefinger tapped against his mouth. Ginny shifted position in her chair, pushing her near empty glass away from herself. She pulled the paper towards herself, instead, flipping to look at the page with Albus. Harry was stroking his chin, eyes flickering as he mentally tore through the details, turning them over in his head, searching for an out. 

Then, suddenly, he perked up. “Did he say ‘Pops’?”

Severus frowned. The three looked to the space where James had Disapparated.


	17. No Matter How Far Away You Roam

After the outing of their most precious secret, Ginny refused all owls from anyone and closed off her Floo network. The others would have only an infuriated public to face. Ginny had the Weasleys, and Ginny was not ready to face them. Between her impending divorce, her impending grandchild, and the ongoing news stories about her family, Ginny did not have the emotional energy to explain herself to them. 

That did not stop the Weasleys trying. Having been married to an Auror for over two decades, and related to one, Ginny was well versed in the arts of evasion. Only Ron had good chances of pinning her down, and the shouting match in the middle of Knockturn Alley prevented further disruptions from him. 

Finally, when she felt settled enough to reach out, she wrote one letter she copied and owled to each member of her family, boiling down to _I appreciate you looking out for me, but I have a lot on my plate. I will talk to the lot of you when I’m good and ready._ The attempts slowed after that, allowing Ginny the freedom to meet with her lawyers in peace, focus on work, and check in on her children. That alone was enough for one woman to handle. 

Matters were tense when Albus and Lily came home for the holidays, only a few days before Christmas. Chatterbox Lily was as quiet as her solemn brother over dinner, while Ginny attempted small talk. _How is school? How are your grades? Any more detentions?_ She couldn’t even reprimand them for all of the corridor hexes or even the potion Albus slipped to Niall McLaggen, causing long brown hair to shoot out all over his body until he resembled Cousin Itt from that Muggle show, _The Addams Family_ , that Albus loved. Ginny had done no less in her own school days, in defense of herself and her family. Ginny was tempted to do no less now to snots such as Pansy Parkinson. 

It was when Albus was setting down his silverware, preparing to excuse himself early, when the Howler came. 

“ _GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY POTTER, YOU AND ALL THREE OF MY GRANDCHILDREN ARE EXPECTED AT MY HOUSE NO LATER THAN NOON CHRISTMAS DAY. YOU WILL STOP POUTING AND CELEBRATE THE HOLIDAYS WITH FAMILY, AND THAT IS FINAL. Don’t worry, my loves, everyone will be on their best behavior.”_ The lips of the Howler curled into a motherly smile resembling Molly’s before it disintegrated. 

“Well, dears, I do hope you didn’t have any plans for Christmas,” Ginny said. 

So on Christmas day, at precisely noon, Ginny knocked on the door of the Burrow with all three of her children in tow. James was making Lily laugh, a pleasant sound she had not heard since her daughter had been back home. Albus stood off to one side, away from everyone, kicking various rocks he encountered. One hit a gnome in the head as it attempted to sneak back into the garden. 

“Oh, Ginny dear!” Molly exclaimed, wrapping her daughter in a warm hug. All of the anxiety she’d felt regarding this visit, all of the walls she’d set in preparation, it all melted away at her mother’s touch. She smelled of the sweets she’d likely slaved away all morning baking. “Come in, come in. Presents and then lunch!” 

The large Weasley clan called out their greetings to the incomers, though they remained distant. Ginny was not sure if it was because of her letter or because of the newspapers. So Ginny settled down with her children on an empty bit of wall as gifts were exchanged. 

“Yours has an Expanding Charm, dear,” Molly said to James as he unwrapped his Weasley sweater. James flushed bright red, mumbling an embarrassed, yet pleased, “thanks” as he pulled it over his head. It was his favorite shade of red-orange. 

Across the room, Victoire sniffed and flung her blonde hair, turning to mutter in French to her mother. Ginny and Fleur exchanged cold glares. James buried his face in a box of chocolates he’d opened, more out nerves than cravings. Ginny gave his knee a pat. 

“I’m so glad we all agreed to have a pleasant Christmas,” Arthur said pleasantly as he joined Ginny and the children. He smiled around at everyone, not bringing attention to the tiff. Victoire and Fleur turned pink, smoothing out their dresses and chattering about the perfume Bill had gifted Fleur. 

“Thanks, Dad,” Ginny murmured.

“Don’t mention it,” Arthur said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “However, when you are ready to mention it, your mother and I will be ready to listen.” Amusement sparkled in his blue eyes. “Smart, to put it off. Your mother was in a right fit.” Ginny frowned. “She’s settled down by now, no worries. Just remember…when you _are_ ready.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Ginny repeated, leaning in to give him a hug. 

Ginny could very vividly imagine the reactions of her entire family. Hot tempered, the Weasleys. Even the calmer ones, Arthur and Bill and Charlie, could be driven to outstanding rage. Little of it would be directed at her, she knew (though she also knew, some of it would be), but she was not ready for the harsh words towards her husband or how differently her sons may be treated. At best, she was not ready for their support, however well-intentioned. The Weasleys were overwhelming in both number and temperament. 

Even now, though time had passed, she did not feel on even keel. Even now she was juggling more than she could handle. 

“You should also know,” Arthur added, “that we’re here whatever you need. Whether you want to talk about matters or not. Your mother and I will always be here for you, no matter what.”

Ginny nodded, then excused herself for a trip to the bathroom. This was what she’d wanted to avoid, the tears in her eyes. Ginny splashed cool water onto her face, sucking in deep breaths. The Weasleys were also overwhelming in their love, and Ginny might just break beneath its gentle weight.

* * *

This was Harry’s first Christmas without his children. Albus and Lily had been home with Ginny for a couple of days now. Neither had reached out to him. James was living with Severus now. Harry hoped his eldest might drop in, but knew he would likely be busy. James had not made comments on the day’s plans, and Harry didn’t dare ask, didn’t dare put that pressure on any of them. 

He woke late that morning, slapping together a quick breakfast of tea and toast. Grimmauld Place was devoid of any holiday decorations, or any sort of festive spirit. No carols or lights or sweets. In one closet hid the gifts he’d purchased for his family. He’d send them along by owl tonight, he supposed. Perhaps he should have sent them this morning instead, so they would have them when they woke. Better that than cling to foolish hope they would come by. 

Life had been lonely, these past months. For the most part, Harry kept busy, between work and divorce proceedings. He avoided Grimmauld Place as best he could, frequenting Muggle bars and shops, away from prying eyes. Twice a week he saw a therapist. Difficult to find a Wizarding therapist who lacked judgment on this matter, but Harry had been lucky in finding Balder Pendergast. The man was older and had seen many cheaters, betrayed husbands and wives, and the “other” men and women in their lives. Pendergast specialized in extra-marital affairs, he’d joked upon meeting, and genuinely appeared unperturbed by Harry’s presence. 

At last someone he could speak to, someone who knew everything and who didn’t think ill of him for it. Or was at least good at hiding his ill thoughts. 

Rarely had he seen Ginny in this time, only occasional owls to discuss the divorce or the children. Severus he saw only when visiting James, and mostly only in their son’s presence. Harry did not want to be tempted by the man. Did not want to surrender to temptation. 

“I’m in love with you,” Harry had informed him simply. “And I can’t pretend it’s just sex. That’s not what I want anymore.” 

It didn’t stop him dreaming of greasy hair between his fingers, the brush of cool hands against his fevered flesh, of that rich voice murmuring filth into his ear. When his yearning grew too strong, he would touch himself between sweat-dampened sheets or beneath the spray of a hot shower, but always his orgasms would leave him unsatisfied, the craving growing stronger. It was more than release he desired. 

Harry missed more than the sex. He had been missing more than the sex for a long time. Harry missed the sight of elegant fingers stroking thin lips as the man thought, missed the sharply efficient way he turned the pages of books, missed the dance of his body as he smoothly prepared potions. He missed his nearness, missed the connection between them. Missed those moments when of all of his faults were seen and acknowledged and loved. 

Harry wondered about Severus as he cooked himself lunch. He thought of Ginny and his children. Wondered what they were doing today. Was James with Severus or with Ginny? Likely his mother. James loved the holidays, and Severus had little patience for festivities. 

When lunch was finished, Harry considered heading into the office. No use sitting around this sad house moping. With it being Christmas, the office was surely to be slow, few if any people around. The stares and whispers had become a part of everyday life now, easier to ignore as time passed, but it would be nice to work in peace for a change. Harry walked into the living room to grab his Auror cloak and stopped, surprised, in the doorway. 

There was a rather pitiful tree standing in the corner, decorated simply with silver and gold garland. Near the tree stood an ugly statue of a house elf dressed like Santa, his grin too large and manic. Severus cursed as a green stocking fell from the mantle. He scooped it up and continued cursing as he held it there with a very pointed Sticking Charm. 

“Did you would think you would garner sympathy by moping about at home?” Severus demanded derisively without turning to face Harry. Instead he stalked to the record player, pulling a record free from his robes and setting it to playing. Christmas carols began to play at low volume. 

“I rather know better than to expect any sympathy,” Harry replied, wrapping his arms around himself. There was a familiar ache in his chest as he looked around at the decorations. They were lackluster as far as decorations went, but it went a long way in adding spirit to the grim house. It touched him deeply, this attempt. “What are you doing here?”

Severus scowled at him. “You should not be alone on Christmas. Merlin knows what antics you’d get up to, left to your own depressive devices.” 

Harry snorted, even as warmth flooded his chest. “Coming to save me from myself again?”

“Someone must,” Severus grumbled as Harry stepped into the room to help finish decorating.

* * *

Whatever warnings Molly and Arthur uttered prior to the family gathering, they were far outnumbered by their children and grandchildren. It was inevitable conversation would steer towards the biggest family drama. 

“So is Snape _really_ their father, do you think?” George quietly asked Ron when they were alone in the kitchen. 

Ron huffed. “Who knows. Ginny won’t say a word.”

George wrinkled his nose. “That’s disgusting. Bad enough Harry actually…” George shuddered. “I hardly believe it, even now.”

“Oh, believe it,” Ron said dryly. “You should have seen them.” Ron mimed with his hands and made an attempt at gooey eyes that turned into a grimace. 

“Always knew Snape was a bad egg,” George said. “I’ll bet he did drug Harry. Amortentia to set the mood, Praegnatio to hold him hostage…He hated Harry’s dad, right? He hated Harry! I’m sure he did all of this just to hurt and humiliate him. I mean…come on. You can’t really think our Harry would do this to Ginny willingly. And let himself get up the duff? With _Snape_?”

“I dunno,” Ron sighed, rubbing his face. “I’d like to believe it, that it’s all Snape’s doing.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” snorted James from the doorway. His arms were folded over his extended stomach, black eyes narrowed at his uncles. “Pops wouldn’t do that to anyone, not even someone he hated.”

George sighed. “You don’t know him the way we do, James.”

“And you don’t know him the way I do,” James snapped. “You never got to know him at all. I grew up with him!”

“So…is he really your dad?” George asked.

James raised a brow, gesturing to his face. “What do you think?”

George winced. “That glare. That is all Snape. Ouch. Rough, that, mate.”

“I don’t think it is,” James argued. “Yeah, my dads fucked up, but they’re good people. Both of them.”

Ron snorted. “After all of this? You’ve got to be joking.”

“Joking?” said Molly, bustling into the kitchen. “I hope they’re for polite company, George.”

“Oh, I’m sure everyone will get a right laugh out of it,” James fumed. “Go badmouth my dads, then. Fun for the whole family! I’m sure you lot have had plenty of practice behind our backs!”

Ron and George yelped as Molly gripped their ears. “Mum, I’ve only got one good ear left!” George cried. 

Molly glowered between her sons. “We had a good long talk about this, boys,” Molly breathed furiously. “One more smart word from either of you and I’ll have your hides!” Molly sharply freed their ears, leaving both men to rub at the reddened appendages. Molly smiled and patted James’s cheek. “You look a bit peaky, dear. Have some more cake.” 

James’s posture straightened smugly as his uncles walked away together, letting his grandmother fix him a slice of cake. It was nice to be fussed over, and so lovingly. The slice was larger than he really wanted, and he wasn’t really hungry, but he finished every last bite, and every last one of them tasted like victory. It didn’t matter what his aunts and uncles thought. Everyone knew his grandparents were the ones who really mattered. And his grandparents would waste no time in putting every last one of them in their place.

* * *

“They still haven’t said anything about it,” whispered Percy to Charlie, a tad indignant. “Does she think we don’t have the right to know?”

“It’s her life, Perce,” Charlie pointed out. 

_Ten points to Uncle Charlie_ , Albus thought to himself. He sat nearby, out of the way, unheard and unseen. Albus had always been good at being invisible, even without magic. He had positioned himself near the fireplace, book open in his lap that he paid little attention to. It was the buzzing conversation around him he took note of. 

Percy scoffed. “They’re our family, Charlie. This affects us all!”

“It affects them most,” Charlie said. “Leave them be.”

“You haven’t turned a page in ten minutes,” Rose whispered, sitting on the floor beside him. Red curls were pinned messily on top of her head. A candy cane stuck out of one side, which Albus was sure her brother Hugo had placed there. Albus weighed his decision momentarily before tugging the candy free and handing it to her.

“That little weasel!” Rose hissed, clutching the candy cane in one hand.

Albus smirked as he finally turned a page. “So’re you.” 

“And you’re not, or so they say,” Rose said. 

Albus shrugged. It was not a topic he was keen on, at least insofar as participation. What he was interested in was what the rest of the family had to say. Oh, if only the walls had ears! Morbid curiosity, to wonder so what everyone had to say, what their first reactions had been. Did Grandmother Molly faint of shock, or rage at the hurt caused by her son-in-law? Did they view James and himself any differently? The thought was a knife twisting in the gut, but also spurring terrible fascination, a lively intrigue at the thought of such theatrics. He was a sick bastard, Albus knew, and he knew just which parent _that_ had come from. 

“What did your folks think?” Albus asked. 

“Dad didn’t speak for an hour,” Rose said. She pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging them there, resting her chin on her knees. It was a very childlike pose that her small body fit into well. “Mum muttered to herself, mostly, trying to determine if she thought it plausible. She finally decided it was and she swore she’d hex off Snape’s penis. That sort of pulled Dad out of it and he started cursing up a storm, threatening the pair of them. Mum had to practically pour firewhisky down his throat to calm him down.”

“Geez,” Albus said. “Do you know what anyone else has said?”

Rose wiggled her bum to scoot closer until their sides were pressed together. “Auntie Fleur made some colorful comments comparing Uncle Harry and James. Uncle Bill was upset with her for being so nasty. They got in a huge row over it. Uncle George called it all codswallop. _Is_ it?” Albus smiled enigmatically, causing Rose to sigh. “Let’s see. I’m not sure what Uncle Charlie thought. Uncle Percy also thought it was silly. Hmmm…Oh, that’s it, I suppose. Grandma and Grandad haven’t said much in my hearing.” 

Albus nodded. “What about the affair? Before the ‘parentage’ drama leaked?”

“Oh, well, general outrage,” Rose said. “I don’t think anyone bought it until Aunt Ginny made her statement, and there was obviously that photo of them kissing. They sounded like an odd pair to me, but that kiss!” Rose fanned herself. “A witness said they did it right there on the garden bench!” 

“Anything specific? Comments, I mean?” Albus pried.

Rose sighed. “I dunno. Lots of ‘poor Ginny’ and ‘wait until I fix my wand on that bastard’ and the like. Uncle George was really riled up. Aunt Angelina had to threaten him over it, told him to act his age.” Rose grinned, but it quickly faded when she continued. “Granddad was very disappointed. Said he couldn’t believe their Harry would do such a thing. Grandma was in tears.”

Albus frowned, turning another page in his book. He didn’t much like the thought of his grandmother crying. _How many people are you going to hurt, Dad?_ Across the room, Hermione gave him a smile and a wave, swatting Hugo’s leg at some comment he made. “It’s true, you know. What they say.”

“Oh,” Rose said. She unfolded her arms and legs, stretching the latter out while wrapping the former around one of his own arms. “I suppose that explains why you’re such a prat.” 

Albus couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

Matters were somewhat uncomfortable as Harry and Severus sat together in the living room, fire crackling warmly before them. Harry had gone around adding further decorations to the room once Severus was finished with his own. He left the tree as it was, however sad it looked. Tinsel hung from the ceilings in festive green and red with baubles dangling precariously at their ends. A magical snow globe sat on the side table, its reindeer pressing their noses against the glass, watching as Harry lifted a biscuit to his mouth. 

They had never celebrated Christmas just the two of them. Harry was giddy with the prospect, heart still galloping whenever he caught sight of the small tree in the corner. “Did you put presents under that tree?” Harry asked, sitting up to peer at the shiny parcels beneath it. Severus turned an ugly shade of red. 

“I may have selected a few items to fill out the scene,” Severus replied, tone dignified. 

“Good idea,” Harry said lifting his wand. “ _Accio presents_!”

He did not think the spell carefully enough, for not only did his own gifts zoom towards him from upstairs, but the ones beneath the tree flew to him as well. Harry grinned sheepishly, plucking a silver wrapped gift from his own pile. “For you.” 

“Ah,” Severus said, choosing a shiny red box from his own pile to trade. The pair then watched each other.

“You first!” Harry grinned.

Severus scowled, carefully peeling back the paper. Harry squirmed where he sat, wanting to tell the bastard to hurry up. He knew from experience that would not expedite matters. When at last the silver wrapper fell away, Severus was holding a leather bound book in his hands. Severus examined it curiously. _Blood & Bone: Theories of Magic’s Natural Use_ by Winona Arroyo. 

“It looked very tedious and technical, so I thought you might like it,” Harry explained, grinning all the broader as Severus flipped open the book to scan its contents. 

“Indeed,” Severus replied, amused. It was difficult for him to tear his eyes away, but he did so, snapping the cover shut. Harry didn’t have to understand much about the book to know it was right up the man’s alley. What he did not mention was the obviously dark connotations of using genetic material in magic. Severus didn’t have to practice Dark Magic to be interested in it, or to use the knowledge in other matters. “Your turn, I believe.”

“Right,” Harry said, ripping open his own package. If he made a show of tearing into it, to contrast Severus’s own precise motions, it was all in good fun. Severus’s snort made the extra work worth the effort. In his frenzy, the item itself fell into his lap before he was done shaking the shreds of red paper from his fingers. “Um,” he said, lifting the small box from his lap, squinting to see what was moving inside of it. 

Severus gently took the box from his hands, placing it on the coffee table. A simple Enlargement Charm had the box stretching one edge of the table to the other. Harry blinked at it.

Normally, Severus was a very bad gift-giver. It was quite cute, in Harry’s opinion. He kept every pair of scratchy socks, every ugly jumper, the mindless Quidditch books, the oddly shaped mugs, the ugly dinnerware, and the questionable singing pocket watch. Hardly any of it saw any real use, but he did enjoy them. They were proof of Severus’s regard, even if they were awful. 

This, though. This was something new. 

“You’re lonely here,” Severus said cautiously. 

“Yes,” Harry agreed. “But it had to be a snake, did it? Couldn’t spring for a crup?”

“You can’t talk to a crup, Harry,” Severus said irritably. 

Harry stared at him. Severus began to scowl, that beloved wrinkle forming between his eyes, when Harry reached out to grab his face, kissing him soundly. It could be argued that Harry could, in fact, talk to a crup, even if the crup couldn’t talk back, but Harry was far more interested in a good snog than an argument. He didn’t know what else to do with the explosion of warmth inside of him. Fingers dug into long hair as he crawled into Severus’s lap. Severus returned his kisses enthusiastically, long hands sliding up his back, into his own hair.

Eventually those fingers tightened, tugging his head back. “Perhaps,” Severus breathed. “You should introduce yourself.”

“Right.” Reluctantly, Harry slipped out of Severus’s lap to kneel on the floor in front of the terrarium. “Hello. What’s your name?”

* * *

Audrey and Percy’s falsely cheerful small talk drove Ginny away very quickly. She wasn’t sure what was worse, direct comments or these obvious pretenses. Everyone knew. They may as well talk about it. Ginny felt as if she finally did want to air it all out, and fuss them all at the end for driving her to it. If not for Albus and Lily, she might have. Her children deserved a nice holiday. They dealt with confrontation enough at school without listening to their mother let loose on the rest of the family. 

“Ginny?” said Hermione as she walked by. “Join us? Angelina and I were about to make mulled wine.”

“Perfect,” Ginny said. Her enthusiastic relief rang clear in her tone, causing Hermione to smile and Angelina to outright laugh. Ginny followed her sisters-in-law into the kitchen. ‘We’ clearly meant Angelina who went to work, while Hermione and Ginny leaned against the counters nearby. 

“How are things, then?” Angelina asked. 

Ginny shrugged. “As well as can be expected.” 

Hermione nodded. “I see Rose and Albus are amiable. It’s about time. They were always so close when they were younger.”

“It was safer when they weren’t friends,” Angelina snorted. “Those two will plot world domination, I tell you.” 

Tension Ginny had not noticed left her shoulders. Laughing with Hermione, she felt nearly normal. They’d given her an opening to say as much as she liked. When she made it clear she would not speak on more personal matters, they moved into safer territory. No pressure to talk. No formal niceties. An easy transition into everyday conversation. Just speaking of their children, as mothers did. 

By the time the mulled wine was ready, Ginny didn’t need it to calm her nerves. At the moment, it just tasted like Christmas.

* * *

The food and laughter left James feeling drowsy, so he sat on an empty couch, humming along to Celestina Warbeck as he fiddled with the Quidditch figurine gifted by Percy. Roxanne soon joined him, the only cousin to not treat him like a pariah. They’d always been close, bonding over Quidditch and sweets. 

“So, I heard the Falcons are keeping you on,” she said excitedly, nodding to the figurine in his hands. It was of Ransom Shackelbolt, fellow Chaser for the team he had joined. James rather liked him, the little he knew of the wizard. James paid closer attention to the gray and white robes. 

“They were back and forth on it, but they decided they wanted me badly enough to wait,” James said. “They have a fill in for the meantime.” 

“That’s great!” Roxanne exclaimed, punching the couch. Her dark curls bounced around her grinning face. 

“Yeah, it is!” James agreed, feeling properly excited for the first time since he’d heard the news. His parents had all been too preoccupied by other worries to feed him the level of enthusiasm he craved. He didn’t blame them, much. Still, he had been so worried over losing his biggest dream, and the graciousness of the Falcons made him all the more determined to make them a great player, once he was able to. He vowed to himself to never let them down. 

“So, what, you jump back into training after you pop her out? Is it a her?” Roxanne asked. 

“It’s a surprise,” James said proudly. The wait was driving him wild, but he hoped he could last until birth. He rather enjoyed the uncertainty of it, the endless possibilities ahead. 

“I hope it’s a girl,” Roxanne said. “Can I touch? Do you mind?”

“Oh, uh, sure, go ahead,” James said. “Here, they’re moving!” He grabbed her hand, placing it on his stomach, scooting it around until the position was right. “Can you feel?”

“No,” Roxanne said, disappointed. 

“Oh, well, they’re just wiggling about right now,” James said. “If they start to kick we’ll try again.”

“Hmph!” said Victoire as she passed by with her sister Dominique. James rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed, but Roxanne twisted around to glare at her receding back. “Knock it off, Vic!” 

“No problems, I hope!” Arthur said cheerfully, approaching the couch. Victoire and Dominique continued walking, as if they had not heard. “James, do you mind coming with me? I would like to speak with you.” 

“Oh, uh, sure,” James said, suddenly nervous. It was silly to fear that his grandparents would politely disown him, wasn’t it? No, they weren’t supposed to talk about anything this evening. It must be something else.

“Find me when you’re done, James!” Roxanne said. “I want to hear what Shackelbolt’s like in real life! And if he’s as fit as he is on my posters!”

* * *

Albus and Molly were already waiting out in Arthur’s shed. Molly was straightening her husband’s collection of plugs when they entered. Albus was sitting in a rickety chair, plucking at the sleeves of his new gray jumper. At Arthur’s gesture, James sank into the chair beside his brother. Moody Albus looked at anything that was not a person.

“Boys,” Molly said, joining her husband. The two stood before James and Albus seriously. “We thought we should have a chat.”

James’s heart sank right into his stomach, drooping even lower, as if it would fall right to the ground. He rested his hands against his stomach where his child offered a comforting nudge. 

“Eyes up,” Molly insisted. James hadn’t realized his had fallen to his shoes, but obediently lifted them to kind, wrinkled faces. Molly smiled sadly. 

“We know the truth of it, though our daughter hasn’t seen fit to confirm it,” Arthur said. “That is her right. But we cannot deny what we have seen.” Albus shifted uneasily beside him. James glanced to his younger brother. Albus was pale, but set with determination. He was ready for this. More ready than James felt. 

“It doesn’t matter to us, you silly billywigs!” Molly’s tone was exasperated. “Don’t pout! You are still our grandchildren, whoever gave birth to you!”

“We never cared a wit about blood,” Arthur said. “We will not start now. You are both loved, and you both have a permanent place in this family.” 

“Whether you like it or not!” Molly fussed, leaning down to enfold the brothers in her warm arms. James hiccuped and held his breath to hold back the onslaught of emotions. Relief and gratitude were overwhelming. Arthur joined them, patting the boys on their shoulders. “And you, James, you will not keep my great grandchild from me.”

“I won’t, Gran, promise!” James said, sniffling. 

“Good boy.” She kissed his forehead and stepped back, wiping tears from her own face. “Well, go on, we won’t keep you.”

“We just thought you should know,” Arthur added. 

How could James ever have feared another outcome? His grandparents were the kindest people he knew. They always welcomed in strays, loving generously the people who came into their lives. Molly and Arthur had been there from day one, watching them grow, offering hugs and sweets. A matter of biology might sway weaker hearts, but Molly and Arthur were steadfast. James rubbed his eyes as he and Albus walked back to the house.

“Everything alright?” Ginny called from the doorway wearing a concerned frown. 

“Great, Mum!” James said, voice wobbly as he walked right into her arms. He made room when Albus pressed in, letting Ginny hold them both. What neither brother saw was Ginny catching sight of her parents, the teary smile she wore in response to the reassuring smiles they gave.

* * *

Having waffled between hopeful and hopeless, Harry had compromised by purchasing half of his usual Christmas fare. Socorro the Burmese python lay curled beneath the oven, absorbing its heat as it cooked the turkey. Severus sat quietly at the bar, reading his book as Harry hummed carols and fixed the sides. It was nice, this calm, easy companionship. It was especially nice since Severus was taking enjoyment of his gift. 

When the food was mostly settled, requiring less attention, Harry turned and leaned back against the counter, tossing his kitchen towel over his shoulder. That wrinkle between Severus’s eyes was back, concentrating fully on the text. Harry smiled indulgently. Severus paid him no mind, which suited Harry fine. He stirred from time to time, reached out to rub Socorro’s head, sipped on his eggnog, but mostly he just watched Severus. Watched the long nose buried between crisp pages, every shift in expression, the precise manner which those fingers turned pages. His hair was clean, Harry noted, fluffy and frizzy in its unnatural state. He must have showered just before coming over. 

Unable to resist, Harry crept forward, running his fingers through the long hair. The locks were soft and thin, though he could see his scalp was already becoming oily again. Severus stiffened beneath his touch. Harry smiled and dropped the hair. “Sorry.” Severus turned his head to blink up at him uncertainly. Harry drifted closer without conscious thought, humming in pleasure. Over the smell of cooking food, he caught a whiff of Severus’s cologne. It was a dark, earthy scent with the barest hint of spice. 

“I’ve always liked your cologne,” Harry commented with a sheepish smile, aiming to keep his tone complimentary, but not flirtatious. 

“I know,” Severus replied, clearing his throat. Consideration in those dark pools. Harry’s breath caught as Severus’s fingers brushed his shoulder, plucking a bit of lint from his jumper. “I…made it with you in mind, actually.”

“You _made_ it?” Harry asked, impressed. Then, “For _me_?”

Severus closed his book and turned on the stool to face him. Harry did not step back. Their bodies were so close to touching. Harry let his hand rest on Severus’s back, while Severus’s drifted to take his free wrist, gently rubbing at the vein he found. “I aimed for something pheromonal,” Severus admitted. “Something that might arouse you. I wanted you to associate it with me, and me alone. So I made it myself, opting for a masculine scent, but one that might please you.” 

“Oh,” Harry said, stunned by the admission. Severus had been wearing this cologne for years. To think he had actually made it himself, just to turn Harry on! “Well, it worked.” 

Severus didn’t react, but held his gaze until Harry wanted to squirm. After a moment, he continued. “I also wanted to leave my mark on you. I had hoped that you might one day forget to remove my trace from you. I hoped your wife might see a bruise or, failing that, smell me on you.” 

Harry swallowed. The annoyance he felt was only mild compared to the desire. Really, he should be angrier. “It worked,” Harry said. “She smelled it one day. Threw a fit over it.” He lazily scratched up and down the man’s spine. Severus was tracing the scars on the back of his hand. _I must not tell lies_ , what a joke. “I should have your arse for that.” 

Black eyes never wavered. There was a peculiar glint within. The expression was guarded, yet inviting; a door held open against the urge to slam it shut. Sobriety hit Harry once he saw this. His fingers stilled. Severus was stroking his knuckles now. “I have always been a selfish man, Harry.” 

“Yeah,” Harry said weakly. “So have I.” He took the hand that petted his, twining their fingers together as he leaned in to brush a tender kiss to that frown. The scent of him exploded in Harry’s awareness, all the more tantalizing now that he understood its conception. 

The kiss deepened as Severus smoothly moved to his feet. Harry pushed the taller man against the island counter, hands flying up to unbutton his shirt. The body against him was thin, softened by age, and Harry wanted to reacquaint himself with every inch of it. He wanted to soak in the smell of him, bathe in his scent. It didn’t matter now who caught a whiff of it. Severus nipped lightly at Harry’s lower lip, the sharp pleasure of it shooting to his groin.

“Oi! Dads! Who’s watching the food?”

Harry sprang away from Severus. James drifted over to the food, prodding at the contents of one pot. “The cranberry sauce is a goner, but the brussel sprouts might be okay.” The back of their son’s neck was bright red. Brighter still was Lily’s face, what could be seen of it behind her hands. She stood in the kitchen doorway, gaze averted, hands pressed over her mouth and nose. 

“Ahem, I, uh, wasn’t expecting you!” Harry exclaimed, his cheer not unfeigned, but more vibrant than was strictly necessary. 

“Clearly,” James remarked, a passing imitation of Severus. Harry shot the man himself an amused look as Severus straightened his clothing in a composed manner. 

What would have been a lot of food for two people fed four just fine. They had turkey, roast potatoes, brussel sprouts, and Yorkshire pudding with mulled wine to wash it down. Severus gave him a sharp look when the wine was served, but made no comments on the matter. It made Harry less keen on his own glass, though he stubbornly sipped at it. It was only one glass, after all. Even fourteen year old Lily was allowed a small glass of it. Why not a forty two year old man? 

“Sorry we interrupted,” James spoke through a mouthful of potatoes. “We just thought…”

“You’re always welcome. All of you,” Harry assured him. “Just, er, should be more careful.” 

“Are you…together…now?” Lily asked, glancing between them. 

“Ah,” Harry said, dropping his gaze to his food. His initial instinct was to look to Severus, but he didn’t dare. Not knowing the hopeful question his expression would hold, and well knowing the answer he would be given. “No. No, we’re not.” 

Lily nodded, seemingly pleased by this. That cut, though Harry understood. It was for the best for everyone involved that they didn’t take things any further. Better still if Harry could stop himself from reaching out to the man, from taking what he could. 

Still, when the mistletoe appeared as Harry saw Severus off (likely a prank from James), he did not stop Severus from leaning in to kiss him again. Did not stop the hands that roamed his body. Did not stop the moan that escaped him as Severus cupped his growing arousal. He should have stopped, should have sent the man away as intended. Instead, he gripped the front of his robes, blindly stumbling to his room with Severus in tow.


	18. Flourish Over a Heart in Ruin

It was only Ginny and Albus for Boxing Day, as James and Lily had spent the night with their father. Ginny was glad for it. Harry would not do well alone for the holidays. Some small, petty corner of Ginny’s heart claimed he deserved it for all he had done, and half hoped the children would stay with her. However bitter Ginny was, she could not hate Harry enough to wish that on him. Having grown up an orphan among neglectful relatives, it had meant a lot to Harry to join a large family and to have a family of his own. This would be his first year without the Weasleys. He couldn’t well have lost his children, too. No one should be alone at Christmas.

That petty corner of her heart cheered when Albus opted to remain with her. It served Harry right, a reminder of all he had broken for his selfishness and weakness. As she prepared breakfast for herself and her son, Ginny considered this. Albus had been so quiet the night before, retiring to his room to be on his own. He was still so affected by it all, more so than his siblings. It was not what Ginny would expect, from the one child that had always known the truth. Hadn’t he had more time to adapt? 

The more she thought on it, the more Ginny understood it to be guilt. Guilt for hiding the truth for so long. Guilt for whatever role he thought he played in the unfolding of this drama. Ginny wanted him to see a therapist, knew it might help, but it was still the school year and Hogwarts was too behind the times to have a proper school counselor. 

When they settled at the table with their tea and porridge, Ginny spoke up. “Al, I know this is a very difficult time for all of us, but I’m worried about you.” Best to be direct, especially with this one. Albus was too slippery to be coaxed any other way. Albus only shrugged to this, spooning up his porridge and letting it drop back into his bowl. “You know none of this is your fault, don’t you?”

“I know,” he muttered. “It’s Dad’s.”

Ginny slowly nodded. “In a way, yes. But don’t you think you should talk to your dad about this?” Ginny swallowed, focusing on her own meal. “Both of your dads, for that matter?”

“Why?”

“Because they’re your dads, Albus,” Ginny explained patiently. “You take so much after Snape, whether you like it or not. You’ll let all that hurt and anger fester. You’ll hold a grudge for the rest of your life. That’s not good for _you_. Snape became hateful because he couldn’t let go of the past, because he couldn’t forgive the people who hurt him. And I think it would kill you to become just like him.”

“I’m _not_ him,” Albus snapped. 

“Then prove it,” Ginny told him. That pitiful part of her screamed its approval for Albus’s behavior, but her better side won and drove forward. “I’m not saying you have to forgive and forget, I’m only asking that you give them a chance to explain their side. Get it off of your chest, if you must. Scream and yell at them, if it will help. Just be open, Albus.”

“I’m not him,” Albus repeated stubbornly, finally taking a bite of his food. Ginny was pleased to note his thoughtful expression as he ate. There was so much of Snape inside of him, but he had enough of Harry’s capacity to love and give to balance the scales. So much like Snape, but also so much better.

* * *

The latest edition of _Witch Weekly_ was rolled up and sticking out of Harry’s back pocket as he cooked breakfast. It had been delivered by owl for Lily, but it was Harry who had gotten hold of it first. He sincerely wished Lily had been awake early enough to keep him from spotting it. 

Memories and imagination tormented him as he remembered last night and this morning, now tainted by implications from the article. He remembered kneeling on all fours in bed, legs spread wide as Severus took him with swift, firm strokes. _Imagining long, slender legs wrapped around narrow hips._ Pressed against the shower wall this morning, moaning wantonly as Severus plunged into him. _Perky, petite witch bouncing away in his lap._ Severus’s mouth swallowing his cries as he slid inside his well used body yet again, perched on the bathroom counter. _Musical, feminine cries piercing the night._

“Let me guess,” drawled Severus as he entered the kitchen, “you read it for the Quidditch articles?” 

Harry didn’t answer as he flipped his omelet. He thought of countless beautiful witches throwing themselves at Severus. It was one thing when he could only take refuge in the likes of Esther Unger. Difficult because however she looked, at least she could provide what Harry could not. Easier then because at least he took comfort in Esther not being the loveliest of witches. 

Now, according to _Witch Weekly_ , Severus didn’t have to be so choosy. 

“So did you stop seeing Esther when all the offers started coming in, or do you keep her around for nostalgia?” Harry asked, pulling the magazine out of his pocket and tossing it onto the counter. Severus’s face was predominant on the cover, scowling at the reader, while several pictures of beautiful witches rotated in a circle around his face. 

One was Keeper for the Wigtown Wanderers. Dead gorgeous, was Haviland Eads. Mid forties, nearly six feet tall, waist-length brown hair always plaited. One rarely saw her outside of the red and silver Quidditch robes, but she had once posed in lingerie for a magazine, showing off long legs and tantalizing curves. Harry still had that spread tucked away somewhere. 

Then there was Musidora Vale, drummer for the Babbling Banshees, a female rock band favored by Albus. She maybe twenty, her pixie cut hair always a different color, a cute heart shaped face, petite body always scantily clad. Very young for a sixty two year old man, but didn’t most men enjoy that sort of thing? 

Ingrid Selwyn, a socialite. Klementine Ky, winner of _Wishful Warlock_ ’s Sexiest Sorceress award. Ravenna Zuccarro, a well-known runologist. Countless witches of great beauty all linked to Severus Snape. Surely he hadn’t actually bedded them all? Did it matter how famous he was now, with his name all over the media? He was still an ugly bastard. Still hook-nosed, still wrinkled by age, still with that stringy, oily hair, still sallow skinned, still unpleasant. _Still mine, he’s mine, all mine, they can’t have him_. The beast within howled its rage. 

Severus flattened the magazine to examine it as he replied. “Esther did not wish to further our relations once our story was exposed.” He smirked, holding up the magazine. “Though as you see, I have since found myself the recipient of many tempting offers.” The glimmer in his eyes was familiar and cruel. 

Harry’s jaw tightened as he plated his omelet, moving to begin another. The egg was cracked too hard, shell crushing, yolk spilling over the edge of the counter, down the cabinets. Socorro the snake slithered nearer to examine it. Harry pushed the shell aside and attempted another, with similar results. He trembled as Severus stepped up behind him, tracing a line down his spine, resting his palm just above his arse. “Some witches and wizards alike are impressed that my prowess lured the great Harry Potter from his marriage not only for a night, but for many years,” Severus explained casually. 

Harry licked his lips. “Did you prove them right?”

“Does it matter?”

“Better looking than your usuals, at least,” Harry rasped. Severus’s free hand moved around to his front, palming between his legs. Harry’s eyes fell shut shamefully at his body’s reaction. However painful, the images that flashed through his mind were arousing enough, without his natural inclination to throw himself at Severus, to reclaim the man as his, washing away every trace of another’s touch. 

“Indeed,” Severus purred into his ear, pressing himself flush against Harry’s back. The hand at his rear moved to stoke his chest. “Haven’t you had such offers?”

“Some,” Harry snapped. It was true enough. However many people hated him now, there were those intrigued enough by his scandals to approach him. Honestly, he hadn’t paid them much mind. Most offers were from gay wizards counting him amongst them. A few were witches, some even attractive, but they had not tempted him. Mostly he scoffed in disgust before tossing the letters in the bin. With everything he had on his plate at the moment, it was not the time for casual hookups, certainly not with people so fascinated by his broken family. 

Dexterous hand swiftly unbuttoned his trousers, reaching into to grasp his manhood. Harry grabbed the narrow wrist, stilling him. “Please, don’t.”

“Why not?”

“The kids.”

Severus deftly redid his button and zipper, then spun Harry around to face him. “Will you persist in allowing your emotions to overtake you? I had hoped age would have tempered that habit.” Harry pushed him away, turning back to his meal preparations. A wave of his wand removed the ruined eggs. He carefully cracked the next few eggs with better success. “My fucking you does not beholden me to you.”

Harry bit his tongue, choosing instead to ignore him. Luckily Harry had made omelets enough times to mechanically move through the steps despite the red heat blinding his vision. It wasn’t his right to be jealous. He knew that. He knew he and Severus could not be together. He knew he should have stopped things from progressing last night, and this morning. He knew better all along. It was not in his best interest to continue their sexual relations, but what strength did he have now that he had not possessed while still married? 

They were attractive witches, Harry admitted. Severus would be insane to not take them up on their offers. Didn’t he deserve to enjoy himself? To luxuriate in such beautiful, feminine forms? The very idea made him nauseous and heartsick. 

“I only bedded Ms. Eads, Ms. Selwyn, and Ms. Zucarro,” Severus said as he started a pot of tea. Harry looked over his shoulder in surprise, but Severus’s face was turned away from him. “All were several weeks ago.”

“Oh,” Harry said. Why was Severus telling him this? To make him jealous? The confirmation was unpleasant, but easier to bear than the wondering. Only three out of a dozen wasn’t so bad. Harry added some diced vegetables into the new omelet, mind scattered. Severus’s tone had been soft, reassuring. An offering, perhaps? But to what purpose? Unsure of what else to do or say, Harry offered his own truth. “I’ve never been with anyone but you and Ginny.” 

Severus did not reply. Harry could feel the dark gaze boring into him, though, as he finished fixing breakfast. Warming charms were cast on the plates to keep each omelet warm as he prepared one for each person. Muscle memory worked in his favor, as he was too unsettled to focus on his actions. 

Over breakfast, Lily suspiciously looked between Harry and Severus, saying not a word. Harry was unsure if the children knew Severus had stayed the night, and dearly hoped he could pass it off as Severus coming back over just to share breakfast with them, rather than having woken up in bed with him. Woken Harry up mouthing hotly down his neck. Harry flushed, pushing the memories from his mind as he stuffed his face with food. 

After eating, Severus cleaned up, leaving Harry to entertain his children. Lily appeared friendlier once Harry gave her the magazine. She chattered cheerfully about where she would wear the new dress robes Harry had gifted her with. James sat in an armchair, fingers dangling towards the floor to coax Socorro closer. Severus rejoined them to bid farewell when the Floo lit up, Albus stepping out onto the rug. 

“Can we talk?” Albus asked without preamble.

“Ah, that’s our cue to leave, I think, Lils,” James said, casting a nervous glance around. Lily hopped up, offering James a hand in standing. A quick Summoning spell gathered their gifts, the pair leaving as swiftly as possible. Albus just stood waiting, staring off into the distance. Harry and Severus shared an uncertain glance as they waited. 

Albus sank into the nearest armchair, fingers falling into a steeple as he examined his fathers. Bemused, Severus joined Harry on the couch. The men exchanged another look. Without realizing, they straightened as one, presenting a unified front, ready to withstand whatever their son decided to throw at them. 

“I was really happy to have three parents, you know,” Albus began. “Especially when I was Sorted into Slytherin. It was comforting to know I had come by it honestly. It helped me through being ostracized by my siblings and cousins. It helped me through my fellow Slytherins distrusting me for being a Potter. It never occurred to me to tell anyone what I knew. I liked being in on the secret. I especially liked that no one else knew that I knew.” 

Harry nodded. That sounded on par for his son. Albus was always sneaking, collecting knowledge. They should always have suspected he would find them out. Albus’s Sorting had been a matter of pride for Severus, he knew, and Harry was glad his son had taken solace in that. Harry knew how difficult it would be for Albus when he was Sorted, though he could admit being disappointed with his nieces and nephews for turning on him because of it. Harry had hoped House rivalries would die out. 

“I always thought your relationship ended long ago,” Albus continued. “That we were born during a break in your marriage to mum, that it was all done honestly. Then last Christmas…I saw you.” Albus glanced away from them. “I was in Dad’s office when I heard you enter. I was trying to sneak out so you wouldn’t see me. I saw you instead. Kissing. Dad said he loved you, or agreed that he did, at least. 

“I don’t know why I never thought it was an affair,” Albus said, leaning forward. His eyes were on them again, sharp. “I hated you for it. I also…” He sighed, ducking his head. “I wanted you to be together, too. I wanted Dad to leave Mum so my _real_ parents could be together.” Bitterness, here. “And I hated myself for wanting that. That wasn’t fair to Mum. I love Mum.”

Harry rubbed his warm face and the back of his neck, unable to look at his son. Albus had seen them? It was rare indeed for Severus to visit Godric’s Hollow, and rarer still for Harry to allow anything to happen when he did. There was always the risk of his wife or children seeing them, as well as the disrespect of seeing his lover in his wife’s house. More disrespect, Harry could admit, on top of what existed because of his having the affair itself. Harry had stopped matters from going further, he remembered, but not for lack of wanting. The interaction had devastated him, yes, but it hadn’t stopped him from touching himself beside his wife’s sleeping form, biting his lip until it bled to keep from waking her. To keep Severus’s name from spilling forth, so unfair with Ginny beside him. 

“I’m sorry you saw that, Al,” Harry said dully. “We shouldn’t have done that.” He had been so good prior to that. Harry had truly meant to be loyal to Ginny. It didn’t mend all of the hurt he had caused, but he had hoped to keep from damaging his marriage further. Harry had finally been ready to do what was best for everyone involved. No one understood how difficult it was to stay away, how powerful the pull of Severus was. When Severus kissed him, he couldn’t help but kiss back. It had taken more strength than he knew he possessed to stop him from anything more. Now he was glad of his restraint, lest Albus seen worse. 

“How could you? Either of you?” Albus asked. “Why did you stay with Mum? Why didn’t you get together? Why aren’t you together now? Is it not as fun anymore, now that you’re not cheating on anyone?” 

“That was never what it was about,” Harry said quickly, insulted his son would think that of him. Still, he could not entirely fault him. He glanced uncertainly at Severus. “At least for me.”

“Nor I,” Severus added. “Matters were, and remain, complicated between your father and me.”

“Do you love him?” Albus asked.

Severus blinked, face guarded. “That is a rather personal question.”

“’Because you love me’,” Albus quoted. “He said ‘yes’, but you never said you loved him. Did you ever love him?” 

Harry gave Severus’s knee a light squeeze. Severus was a private man. He had had enough of his personal life revealed to the world lately, without divulging this most personal of details. “Albus,” Harry said softly, meaning to shift the conversation elsewhere.

“I will always love your father,” Severus admitted quietly. Harry turned to him, bright emerald meeting darkest obsidian. Agony and longing leaked through the cracks of that stone wall he held so dear. Cold fingers met his own, holding them for a second, then removing hand from knee. “Love does not a relationship make.” 

Verdant eyes flicked away, body shifting ever so slightly away. Albus saw all of this, his expression calculating. Harry couldn’t bear that look. It was too familiar as that of the man beside him. 

“It’s not worth fighting for?” Albus asked. 

Harry stood up, turning his back to them both. Shaky fingers covered his mouth. Cold and hot, stomach twisting. He already knew what Severus would say before he spoke the words.

“I believe I fought for a long time, Albus.” 

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the stinging in his eyes to leave. Hadn’t he known what he was doing to them both? Easier to focus on the pain he caused his wife. She was the most obvious person harmed by his actions. How had he been so easily blinded to how Severus had suffered? 

“Why did you stay with Mum?” Albus asked again.

“Because she was everything I thought I wanted,” Harry replied, tired. He couldn’t bear to face either of them just yet. “I always dreamed of a wife and kids, a big family, a nice house, a good career. A proper life. I never had that. And I was selfish. I wanted to have it all. And I didn’t know how to let go of any of it.” He shuffled his feet. “So I didn’t.” 

“Do you love Mum?” Albus asked. Harry nodded, losing the will to speak. “Are you in love with her?” He shook his head here, ashamed. “Were you ever?” Another head shake. “But you’re in love with Severus still?” Nod. “Do you want to be with him?”

“Enough, Al,” Harry said firmly.

“You do,” Albus said certainly, content even without the confirmation. He sounded to be in better spirits, more secure on the stable ground of truth-seeking. “Are you sleeping together?”

“Albus, that is inappropriate,” Harry snapped. Severus’s eyes narrowed at the boy. Albus was unperturbed by this as he examined them. Eventually he nodded, as if he’d found his answer. 

“But you’re sleeping with other people, too?” Albus asked.

“Albus,” Severus warned. 

Their son appeared less sure of this response. For a time he watched them, then considered his next question. “Why are you and Mum divorcing if you’re not going to be with Severus?”

“Because we should have divorced a long time ago,” Harry admitted, finally turning back to face them. Albus and Severus were both eying him curiously. “She deserves someone who loves her and only her. And I shouldn’t stay just to live my picture-perfect fantasy.” Harry shuffled back to the couch, plopping back down beside Severus. “Your mother was a better partner than I deserved, but it still wasn’t right, for either of us.”

They could see the wheels turning within their son. He was lit up with it, spinning through the facts, finding his conclusions, working where to go next. It was similar to the look Harry often found on Severus, but within Severus it was a deeper, darker contemplation. Knowledge consumed him, drove him deeper within; he drowned in it, sinking downward. Knowledge burned within Albus, a roaring fire that animated or destroyed. That, Harry knew, came from him. Albus was the best and worst of them both, all of their potential balanced on a knife’s edge, too easy to fall on the wrong side. 

“You’re the ones that outed everything, right? To protect James?” 

“Everything but your paternity, yes,” Severus replied. “That was an unfortunate byproduct.” 

“They were bound to guess,” Albus said. “Once they knew the rest.” 

“We didn’t think it through enough,” Harry admitted. “We purposefully withheld that information to protect you.”

Albus shrugged. “It hasn’t been worse than anything else.”

“Because of James?” Harry guessed.

Albus nodded. Harry sat back down beside Severus, watching his son. “How bad is it?”

The teenager shrugged again. “Just…hearing a lot of nasty comments about James. And you.”

Harry smiled. “They’re teenagers. Of course they’re mean. I am sorry you have to hear it.”

Albus smirked. “Oh, I never said I let them get away with it.”

* * *

The pettiness inside of Ginny reared its ugly head again when Lily showed her the new _Witch Weekly_ edition. So, Snape was sleeping around, was he? Ginny didn’t see the appeal, but good for him. Harry had said he had no intentions of being with the man, but it was comforting to see it may be true. It was less harmful to her pride that Harry should not begin romancing his longtime lover. 

At the same time, she did want Harry to be happy. She mostly hated the idea of him hurting. Ginny could not stand to be around him, at the moment, but she hoped that would pass with time. Right now she loved him too much to move on. The fact that she could be so in love with him, even after everything, for him to not to feel the same for her was galling. What was it she had fought so hard for, all that time? 

James appeared less enthused than his mother and sister by the news. He moodily poured himself pumpkin juice, shutting the fridge too firmly, setting the glass down too hard. His reaction stung. Would he prefer his fathers be together? Was he glad she and Harry were divorcing? James had appeared upset when they broke the news to him. Maybe he only wanted at least some of his parents to be together, regardless of which pairing it was. Ginny certainly hoped so.

“Did you have a nice visit with your dad, then?” Ginny asked once Lily finished commenting on how nice a couple Severus and Ingrid Selwyn would make. 

“Yes! Daddy got me those dress robes I wanted,” Lily replied happily. “And a broom polish set!”

“We keep telling you you need to take better care of your Starstriker,” Ginny said. 

“I know, I know, I will now!” Lily promised. 

“She’ll play for the Harpies just like you, Mum,” James said, adding eggnog to his pumpkin juice. “And she’ll do it in a gown and tiara.” 

The girl beamed, bouncing on her toes. “A girl can fly in style if she likes!” 

“Atta girl!” James agreed. “Ah, I miss flying.” He absently rubbed his stomach. Pregnancy prevented him from flying and Apparition, to his displeasure. “I can’t even walk properly these days.” 

“Oh hush,” Ginny laughed. “How is my grandchild?”

“Good,” James smiled, a soft, happy smile. “Active.” 

“Can I feel?” At his accepting nod, Ginny approached, laying her hand on his extended belly. James moved her hand to the right spot as the baby kicked. “You were much the same, you know. You were always stretching and kicking. Your were always beating up your poor dad. I always laughed at him, until Lily did the same to me. He never did laugh, but he was awfully smug about it. Git.” 

Lily and James laughed. “Oh, they’re not so bad. I like knowing they’re okay. They seem excited, really, and I like that. I hope they’re a happy baby.”

The tone was wistful. Ginny brushed his hair out of his face. “Lily, why don’t you go spruce up your broom? We’ll go flying later, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lily said, gathering her broom servicing kit. Clearly she could tell something was wrong, but she asked no questions as she left.

“I’m fine, Mum,” James sighed, gulping down his pumpkin-eggnog concoction. 

“You’re not,” Ginny said. “Is Severus treating you well?”

“He’s fine,” James rolled his eyes. “He’s not all bad, you know.” Ginny bit her tongue to keep from pointing out all of Severus Snape’s numerous flaws. James saw this and snorted. “He’s not, really. Not used to having a roommate, I think. Keeps mostly to himself, but he brews my prenatal potions and makes sure I eat. Won’t let me out of the house without watching me like a hawk, though. I swear he has alarm charms go off if I so much as step into the garden.”

“It’s for your own good,” Ginny begrudgingly said, relieved that Severus was keeping a close eye on their son. James had not reacted well to all of the unwelcome attention brought on by his pregnancy, and they had done their damnedest to protect him from the unwelcome attention the rest would bring. However, her social, exuberant son had been homebound for months. She could see it was wearing him down. Every smile and laugh had a shadow that had never been present before. Of course he would want to venture out into the garden, at least. “I’m sure he’d accompany you into town, if you like. If not, I or your father can go with you. Or…I’m sure Teddy…”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure Teddy would love to be seen with me,” James snorted.

“Is that the problem, then? Teddy?” Ginny asked. Teddy Lupin would have been her second guess, after the trials and tribulations of living with Severus Snape. Clearly she had been wrong on that front. Ginny had assumed James moving in with Snape would last but a week or so, so sure was she that Snape would drive him away with harsh words. Not so, to Ginny’s disappointment. She had so hoped James would have come back to her. Learning he intended to move in with the parent he claimed to hate had been an unwelcome shock. 

“Mum,” James sighed, as if warning her off of the subject. Then he changed his mind. “I dunno. He wants to come with me to an appointment. For the baby. I’ve…err…been putting it off, actually. I keep ‘forgetting’ to tell him when I go.” James reached across the counter for the tin of biscuits, helping himself to a small stack of them. “He doesn’t have feelings for me, Mum. I was just an experiment for him. Which, it’s not his fault, not really. I sort of threw myself at him.” His face turned tomato red as his head bowed, shoulders curling in, holding his glass with both hands in front of him. Ginny frowned, rubbing his back soothingly. 

“I’m so embarrassed, Mum. I was so stupid,” James explained, voice wobbly. “I just wanted him so badly, I was willing to take what I could from him. I let him use me, because I thought if I did…I would win him. Y’know? It was very stupid. Now Vic hates him and Ted hates me and everyone thinks I’m a massive slut.” His neck bowed further at this, until Ginny could see nothing of his face, only his unruly black hair and the red of his neck. “He’s the only bloke I was ever with, honest. I was…saving myself, for him.” James laughed, and Ginny could hear the sob he fought to hold in. “I loved him all my life, Mum. I always thought I was going to marry him.” 

Young love was bitter disappointment. Ginny had loved Harry her whole life, it seemed. As a child, she marveled over tales of Harry Potter and, upon meeting him, fantasized about the hero. She harbored a crush the moment she laid eyes on him, feelings that only grew over time, never fading, not even when dating Michael or Dean. Ginny had done her best to get over him, had succeeding in distracting herself, but a part of her had always loved him. 

Real life had been nothing like her fantasies. 

“He’s so…kind and generous…even now,” James sighed. “But every time I’m near him, he’s just…disappointed. And sad. I can’t take it. And he thinks…he thinks I tricked him! I dunno how to explain, how to make him believe, the truth. I hate what he thinks of me. That’s the worst. Everyone else can think what they please if only Teddy could know the truth.” James finished off his drink, if only for a moment to collect himself. Ginny frowned thoughtfully. 

“I just want to be something to him,” James said miserably. “More than just the bloke he fucked to decide if he likes fucking blokes. More than the vessel that carries his baby. I just want to be James to him again, y’know. Even if he doesn’t want to be with me.” 

“He just needs time,” Ginny assured him. “You know Teddy. He’s too sweet to hold a grudge. We’ll explain things to him properly, when he’s ready to hear it, okay?” She took his chin, turning his face towards her. His cheeks were splotchy, bits of white and red. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot, still wet with unshed tears. There had been quite enough crying in this family, Ginny thought, playfully tapping his nose. “But he is not so sweet to evade blame. He still cheated on his fiance. He still ‘used’ you, as you say. Teddy Lupin is not perfect, my love.”

James sniffed. “But I made him.”

“Somehow I doubt you forced his hand much,” Ginny retorted. “He could have pushed you away. He could have said no. He is a grown man, James. He is a grown man and he did a very bad thing.” 

“But he wouldn’t have if-”

“But he _did_ ,” Ginny interrupted. “You didn’t Imperio him. He made his own choices. What you offered, he took, and that was his decision. End of story.” Ginny took a biscuit from his stack to munch on herself. “Your father is a very good man, James, but he has done very bad things. Saving the world doesn’t absolve him of his sins, and he’s suffering the consequences for what he did. We can still love him. But it doesn’t change the fact that he is at fault for all he’s done. Of everyone involved, Harry is the one who betrayed his family. Teddy is the one who betrayed his fiancee.”

“That makes me Pops, doesn’t it?” James asked quietly. 

“Well, yes,” Ginny said. “I’m not saying you’re blameless. Severus still slept with a married man. You still slept with Teddy, knowing he was with Victoire. What I’m saying is that neither of you is solely at fault.” Though it was always easier to hate Severus than to hate her husband. “You still look at Teddy through rose colored glasses. You never could stand to see any bad in him. What you need to learn, love, is that no one is perfect, even the people we care about.” 

These words she left James to think upon as she swept crumbs into her hand, dropping them into the bin. If there was one thing Ginny understood, it was the difficulty of seeing the person you adored as human. More difficult still to be betrayed by them. For the first time, Ginny had to consider just how Snape had been affected by all of this and, for the first time, felt her heart go out to him. If he did love Harry, if he was capable of that…if all these years he had taken what the man he loved was willing to give, if he had wanted more…If both she and Severus loved Harry, and had been hurt by him…If Severus had been as lost and lonely as James was…

Ginny left James to his thoughts as she went to check on her daughter, intent on distracting herself from that line of thought, away from any sympathy she may be feeling for Severus Snape.

* * *

Harry and Severus both took turns lecturing Albus about fighting at school, which he should have expected. Since his mother hadn’t said much on the subject, he rather hoped his fathers would be less likely to do so. If any good could come of this mess, shouldn’t it be getting away with a little acting out? Making smart comments about it being their fault didn’t help, with Severus jumping down his throat to not speak to his father that way, and Harry reprimanding his attitude and reminding him that he was still a parent and due a certain respect. The ensuing fight was strangely cathartic, seemingly to all involved. 

Albus apologized, in the end, though he didn’t necessarily mean it. He was, however, feeling much calmer. He also saw promise in the way his fathers had worked together, and comfort in their taking charge in parental roles. Maybe he would prompt his mother to fuss at him, too. 

“You are welcome here whenever you like, Al,” Harry said. They stood around the fireplace, seeing Albus off.

“And likewise in Falmouth,” Severus added. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks,” Albus said. “Goodbye…Fathers.” 

The last thing Albus saw as he Flooed home were his fathers smiling at each other, Harry’s amused, Severus’s soft and mysterious. They didn’t give their relationship near enough credit. 

Back at Godric’s Hollow, Albus found Lily and Ginny flying in the backyard while James watched from the garden table. Albus joined him, carrying a platter of leftover Christmas sweets on request. James was shouting tips to his sister when a familiar pygmy owl flew by, dropping a letter and small package onto his half eaten fruitcake. Albus tried not to appear overeager as he tore open the envelope. 

_Dear Albus,_

_Happy belated Christmas! I do hope your holiday was enjoyable. If you need to escape, you are always welcome here. Mum and Dad won’t mind._

_I’ve sent along a present, as well. I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate, but it made me think of you._

_Yours truly,_

_Mabel_

Albus was smiling as he tore open the parcel, grin broadening as he flipped through the small book of word and number games. He didn’t notice his mother and brother watching him as he swiftly walked to the house to locate a quill. If Ginny missed the ball Lily threw to her, it was worth it to see her younger son in higher spirits.

* * *

With Albus gone, Severus decided it was past time to depart himself. As he bundled up into his outer robe, gathering the gifts he’d been given the night before, Harry stood nearby, shifting awkwardly. Was he thinking of that article again? Severus had hoped Albus’s interruption had driven it from his mind. 

Severus himself was glad to be done with the conversation. There was eager poison running through his veins, urging him to the highs of cruelty, desiring the effect jealousy had on his lover. Even now he thought of every word he could say to drive Harry mad, all of the details he could share of his encounters. How limber was Haviland Eads, how talented Ingrid Selwyn with her tongue, or worse still the intelligent conversation with an academic like Ravenna Zuccarro and how wildly his libido responded to such. 

Each encounter had been novel. Severus had never had such a number of beautiful witches wishing to share his bed. Knowing why they wanted him only pushed him to performing his very best. He worshiped their lovely bodies, relishing in their soft breasts and their slick desire, the feel of their smooth, hairless flesh, the taste of their plump, glossy lips. Would he not have been a fool to deny such offers? He owed Harry nothing.

Yet seeing Harry, feeling the wounded air radiating from him, Severus hadn’t had the heart to dig the knife in any deeper. He gave the names of his partners as an offering, of sorts, though Severus himself did not understand fully. He could admit to himself the relief that Harry had not indulged in any other lovers himself. Severus could not be sure of the rumors he’d heard. While he doubted Harry had actually fallen into the arms of Wally Womple, it had bothered him more than the stories of Harry with any given witch. Women were one matter, and never a comforting idea, but the idea of Harry with another man…there were no words to describe that itching, boiling poison in his gut. 

“That went well, I think,” Harry finally said as Severus reached for the Floo powder.

Severus turned. “’Well’? He blamed you for his misbehavior, called you a tart, and told you to suck cock in hell.” 

Harry grinned. “Well, at least he apologized.”

“He didn’t mean it.”

“Well, he said it. And he seemed…better, right? At the end?” Harry suggested, now uncertain. 

“He threw a tantrum, I’m sure he’s feeling much better, but I would not constitute the meeting as having gone ‘well’.” 

“He’s been through a lot. They all have. Anything that eases their minds is ‘well’ by me. Besides, he was amiable by the end.” Harry stepped nearer, peering up at him, verdant eyes bright and glimmering. “You did well, yourself, you know. Your defense was…chivalrous.” He grinned impishly. James often grinned that way. It caused a strange melting sensation in his chest. “I appreciated it.”

“You’re his father,” Severus said uncomfortably. “He should not speak to you in such a manner.”

“You’re his dad, too,” Harry pointed out. “And you make a damn fine one, when you want to.”

Unthinkingly, Severus brought his hand up to trail down Harry’s jaw, cupping his chin and tilting it up. Harry’s breath caught, the green growing hazy. Pink lips were hopefully parted. Severus brought his thumb up to stroke them. Harry shuddered. “You make a fine partner when you want to be, as well.” And he softly kissed the pad of Severus’s thumb, his heart jumping alarmingly in turn. His thumb fell away, replaced by his lips, capturing the soft, warm lips in his. Harry swayed into him, so Severus held him close, kissing him softly. Neither pushed farther than that, simply delighting in the sweetness. 

“We can’t,” Severus whispered.

“I know,” Harry replied, turning his head away. 

Easier to kiss him again, to push him into the wall, to fall to his knees and pleasure him until he forgot the broken moment and the ache of it. Easier to pretend all they shared was the sex. Instead, Severus kissed his temple before stepping away. As he Flooed home, he felt strongly that he’d left something behind. It was a while before he realized it was no inanimate object he had forgotten, but it was Harry himself he was missing.


	19. Falling For You Was My Mistake

For the last day of the holidays, Ginny invited Harry and Severus to dinner with the children. It appeared that for the most part all three children had made peace with all three of their parents. It was not that Ginny herself cared to be around either of them, but for the sake of the children, she was willing to welcome them for an evening. Being near Harry was still too much like pouring salt on the wound, and Severus, well, they’d never gotten along. 

Albus and Lily would be returning to Hogwarts on the morrow, back to the ridicule of their peers, back under scrutiny, away from the comfort of home. James would soon be seeing Teddy during his next prenatal appointment. All three of them could use the support. The children’s needs mattered more than whatever bitter feelings Ginny felt. 

Harry prepared dinner, Ginny the dessert, while Severus brought the beverages. Lily and Harry spent much time suggesting increasingly ridiculous names for James’s baby (”Don’t listen to Dad, you know he awful he is at this,” Albus had said near the start, only prompting Harry to become more and more creative). Ginny, for the umpteenth time, pleaded with James over their chatter to please find out the sex of her grandchild. (”We don’t support gender norms in this household, Mother!” James said, banging his fist on the table as Lily and Harry chanted unisex names.) Severus and Albus, meanwhile, maintained a conversation on modern Potions theory. 

The looks Severus and Harry shot each other were missed by everyone except Ginny, including each other. Ginny herself was too aware of them both to not see, to not feel the longing between them. Almost she wanted to shout at them to just get together, then, and stop moping about it. 

“I wasn’t that bad at Potions!” Harry defended, finally catching onto Severus and Albus’s words. “I excelled my sixth year.”

“You cheated,” Severus sneered.

“You were finally teaching,” Harry smirked. 

“You always said you were rubbish with Potions,” Albus said, glancing eagerly between his fathers. 

“I was not rubbish, I had a rubbish teacher,” Harry corrected. “Slughorn came around sixth year while Severus taught Defense. Only that year I got a hold of Severus’s old Potions textbook.” He laughed. “Bastard had the nerve to ‘correct’ the author. He wasn’t wrong, though. Following his instructions I did well.”

“If only you paid attention the previous five years.”

“If only you weren’t an arse those previous five years. I always sort of liked the ‘Half-blood Prince’.”

“Half-Blood Prince?” Albus asked.

Harry grinned. “Severus’s nickname for himself during his school years.”

“I need a cool nickname like that,” Albus said. “Leave mysterious notes in old textbooks. Seduce a younger woman with them in a few decades.”

“That’s playing the long game, mate,” James chortled. “There are better ways of charming witches.”

“Preferably not with actual charms,” Harry said.

“Or potions, for that matter,” Severus added. 

“But the drama! The intrigue!” Lily exclaimed. “I think you should do it, Al.”

“Go on. Give him a name, Dad. You’re excellent with names,” James joked.

“Sure, sure,” Harry laughed. “Potty-Mouth Potter, then?”

Albus groaned. Lily and James cackled. 

“The Boy With Two Dads: I Know Less About a Woman’s Body Than the Average Man!” James used his best announcer’s voice. Albus scowled. 

“More than you,” Albus muttered.

“I’m gay, I should hope so,” James retorted. 

Ginny did not want to be amused by this conversation, did not want to be involved, particularly with references to Harry and Severus’s relationship. Still, she couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

On Platform 9 3/4, people talked and gaped openly as the Potter-Snape family arrived. The six ignored the attention, some with more ease than others. Severus stood stiffly, formally bidding farewell to Lily and Albus. Lily’s smile was too bright, too fake, her voice too high. James was much the same, bounding about with more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary, nervously rubbing his baby bump the entire time. The pair of them wore their hearts on their sleeves, not adept in the art of pretense. 

Ginny, Harry, and Albus moved with ease, chatting easily, offering natural hugs and goodbyes. Albus aided his sister as they boarded the train, throwing his arm around her and muttering bad jokes under his breath to loosen her up. Lily laughed, if only at how awful the jokes were. James moved closer to Severus, the pair whispering to one another, both clearly uncomfortable. Harry and Ginny shared a fond smile as they waved to their children. Their unified front distracted from the discomfort of the rest of the family, and were the most photographed by _Daily Prophet_ photographers. 

The photos would soon spark rumors of reconciliation, and more torrid gossip wondering if the three had entered into a polygamous relationship. These stories were expected. 

As they left the platform, away from inquisitive minds, Harry smiled and nudged his soon-to-be ex wife. “Not bad, Gin. I can already see the headlines. No thanks to you two.” He mock glared at Severus and James. Severus glared back while James grinned sheepishly. 

“Not everyone has practiced lying to the extent we have,” Ginny said sharply, shrugging away from him. Harry’s face fell.

“Right,” he said. 

“James, I’ll meet you for your appointment on Friday, yeah?” Ginny said.

“Um, yeah.” James frowned as he glanced between them. “Err…Why don’t we all go to lunch? I’m starved!”

“You and your mother go.” Harry offered a strained smile. However friendly Ginny had been lately had been all for show, then. He should have expected that. The spark of hope within crumbled. 

“Sure, Jay, come along,” Ginny said happily, linking her arm through her son’s. They walked on, discussing where they might go. James looked over his shoulder at his dads, silently willing them to follow, but Harry just shook his head. Severus stepped up beside him, resting an uncertain hand on his shoulder. 

“Tea?” Severus asked.

“Yes, please.”

* * *

On the Hogwarts Express, Albus and Lily shared a compartment that was soon crowded when Scorpius, Rose, Mabel, and Eugene joined them. Rose threatened any nosy neighbors with detention, pretending to go deaf whenever Eugene threatened them with jinxes. Scorpius chattered about his holiday, Albus nodding absently as he watched the scenery pass by. Mabel would occasionally nudge him with her toes to smile at him, bringing him back to earth whenever his thoughts looked to be drifting too far away. 

“I talked to my dads,” Albus announced midway through the ride. 

“How did that go?” Rose asked.

“Are you okay?” Mabel asked.

“I dunno,” Albus said, in answer to both. “But I think it will be okay, eventually.”

* * *

_**The Daily Prophet** _

_ POTTERS RECONCILING? _

_Correspondent Pansy Parkinson is surprised to report the supposed reconciliation of Ginevra and Harry Potter. The couple was seen dropping off the two youngest Potter children at the Hogwarts Express on Sunday morning, in company with Severus Snape and James Sirius Potter._

_“Snape looked moody,” says source Cormac McLaggen, who was dropping off his own sons at the time. “He obviously wasn’t pleased to see them back together.”_

_“They’re obviously still in love,” claims Cho Davies, ex girlfriend of Harry Potter, and mother of school aged children herself. “I knew the whole thing would blow over.”_

_“They were always so perfect together,” says dear friend of the Potters, Luna Scamander. “It must have been the woofenfloofs, you know. Ginny couldn’t hold that against him.”_

_It is unclear what ‘woofenfloofs’ are supposed to be, but what is clear is that once again the Potters are determined to beat the odds._

* * *

_**Witch Weekly** _

_ LOVE TRIANGLE, OR SPICY TRIAD?! _

_Has love died for the Potters, or has it grown? Gossip Queen Parvati McLaggen always has the latest in Potter-Snape drama!_

_Sunday morning at Platform 9 3/4, onlookers were shocked to see Ginny and Harry Potter along with Severus Snape, sending their youngest children back to Hogwarts. The three made a unified front on the platform, and we have to wonder - is this the new Dream Team?_

_Others suggest Ginny and Harry are calling off their divorce, and we agree - but there is more to the story. It is more than Ginny and Harry renewing their spark, but the means by which they renewed it._

_“All those years watching her husband crawl back to Snape,” suggests Daphne Nott, “she had to be curious as to what kept him going back. And if it could save her marriage…?”_

_A one night experiment may have bloomed into new romance. Ginny may be willing to share her husband if it’s with their shared lover._

* * *

At the firm of Goldstein and Grimm, bright and early Tuesday morning, Harry and Ginny sat with their respective lawyers as the last of the agreements were made. Ginny would keep the Godric’s Hollow home, but would accept no alimony. Their shared assets were split down the middle. The children would stay primarily with Ginny during the summer holidays, visiting Harry every weekend. Holidays would be shared, the children beginning the day with their mother and ending it with their father. 

Ginny could easily have demanded more. The law would favor her, as wife and mother, as well as the person wronged in the situation. Harry would not have fought her on any of it. But Ginny was not so vindictive as to take his money or keep his children from him. Even if she were so inclined, she would not have done anything that would negatively impact the children. 

Harry and Ginny appeared relaxed and amiable as they signed the documents, staying after to chat with their lawyers. They were fairly confident the secretary would spill the beans to the first news outlet willing to pay, and presented a fair show of things. As they left, they smiled and made plans to meet for tea the coming weekend, with no intentions of any sort.

* * *

Ginny made an appearance at work, dropping off her newest article, and claiming to have research to do the rest of the day. It would have to do. She could not keep up the charade much longer. On her way home, she made a show of popping into her favorite bakery, grabbing a coffee and pastry to go. 

By the time she made it home, Luna and Hannah were waiting, sitting side by side on the front step. Hannah took the keys from Ginny’s hand, unlocking the door for her. As soon as the door was closed behind the three, Ginny fell sobbing into the arms of her friends. Hannah took the coffee, Luna the pastry, and they led their friend into the sitting room. Luna sat with her on the couch, holding her, murmuring soothing words as Hannah dumped the coffee in favor of wine. 

“Are we opposed to day drinking, ladies?” Hannah asked.

“I do my best work day drinking,” Luna announced serenely.

“That does not surprise me,” sighed Hannah. 

“It’s so stupid, to cry,” Ginny hiccuped, taking the glass offered by Hannah. “He’s a lying, cheating bastard.”

“I really thought it was the woofenfloofs.” Luna sounded disappointed. Hopefully disappointment in Harry, and not disappointment in the lack of woofenfloofs. Hannah hid her giggle by gulping down her own wine. 

“Yes, but you loved him,” Hannah said, coughing. 

“I still do,” Ginny despaired. “What if I never stop?”

“You’re strong,” Hannah said. “You’ll get through this. Harry Potter is not so great that you’ll never recover. It may take time, but you’ll get there.”

“You’ll find someone else,” Luna said certainly. “You just have to see them when they come along.”

“I generally prefer men I can see, yes,” Ginny said dryly.

Luna laughed, wild and free, causing Hannah and Ginny to exchange alarmed yet amused glances. In true Luna fashion, she laughed for an extended time, finding more humor in the comment than was strictly necessary. As her laughter subsided, she smiled fondly at Ginny. “You have to see what the world has to offer and stop letting Harry Potter cloud your vision, that’s all.” She patted her shoulder and sipped her wine, snorting into her drink. “’Men I can see’,” she repeated, barely swallowing her wine through her giggles. 

“She has a point,” Hannah held back her own laughter to speak. “Put yourself out there. Accept a few dates just for the novelty of it. It doesn’t have to be anything serious. You just need to remember what it’s like being your own woman, not Harry’s wife; and remember that other men are out there, and they do want you. You’re bound to find one you actually like one day, but until then, just live a little. Have fun. Let someone woo you.”

“Or woo them,” Luna suggested.

“Or woo them!” Hannah agreed. “Whatever you fancy.”

Ginny finished off her wine, needing the buzz to get her through how overwhelming the thought was. Dating? She’d only signed the divorce papers today! To spare her children an ugly divorce, she put on a happy face about the whole thing, but Ginny was not happy. At the end of it all, she had not wanted her marriage to end. She would have lived the rest of her life with him. Ginny loved him, had always loved him, and he had always been worth the trouble to her. 

They had relied on one another so heavily for so long, Ginny did not know who she was without him. Even with their time apart. Always she assumed he would come back to her. She hadn’t even gone on dates in that period, however tempted she was to make him jealous. Now she had to wonder if it would even have worked. He wasn’t in love with her. He never had been. 

Ginny sobbed. Luna and Hannah jumped, dropping their wineglasses onto the nearest surfaces, huddling in closer around their friend. “I hate him so much,” Ginny sputtered. Only because she loved him so dearly could she hate him so venomously. 

After all those years of staying by his side, supporting him through recovery, supporting him through his pregnancy, building a life with him, never straying, never giving up on him and it hadn’t mattered one bit. However often he came back home to her, he’d always left his heart behind in Severus Snape’s hands. If she had him at all, it was in name and body. Never where it counted. Years and years of her life wasted. 

She wasn’t sure which was worse: his leaving, or his never having loved her the way she loved him. 

“I know,” Hannah said. “It’s okay to hate him.” 

“I didn’t even want this stupid divorce,” she ranted. “I’d have stayed with his ungrateful arse. I never thought…I always assumed he would come back. He always came back. And I stayed. Like a fool! I’m so bloody stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Luna frowned. 

“Perfectly intelligent people make stupid mistakes all the time,” Hannah said. “That does not make you stupid, it makes you human, like the rest of us. Everyone is a fool for love.”

“Even Harry,” Luna said. Hannah cringed, shaking her head vehemently but Ginny just laughed, laughed right through her tears, hiccups arising from the transition. 

“They’re not even together, you know,” Ginny said. “They want it so badly, you should see them together.” She sobbed, then laughed, then hiccuped again. “They’re too cowardly to even try.”

“They’d make an odd couple,” Luna commented. Hannah nodded her agreement. Even still, none could quite explain what the men saw in one another. They surely had no idea how they could make a relationship work together.

“I should have known,” Ginny whispered. “The way they look at each other…” Snape looking like he wanted to swallow Harry whole, but was too scared to; the hunger was tempered by guardedness, as if waiting for Harry to wound him. Meanwhile, Harry looked at Snape as though he held every secret, every mystery in the known universe; his eagerness lit him up, his fear casting tension around it. He never looked at her with such awed understanding. He was warm, generous, but it was mild. Ginny had always found this comforting. Always she assumed she was the calm in his life, the steady ground he returned to, but now she knew herself to be his hiding place - beloved for what it offered, rather than what it was. “He never looked at me like that.”

Hanna and Luna could say nothing. Instead they offered wine, ears to listen without judgment, shoulders to cry on freely. Late into the night, the three traipsed upstairs, squeezing into bed together. They would not leave her alone, not tonight.

* * *

By means of distraction, Harry threw himself into work. His colleagues were all distant, but polite. Only his secretary, Fern, was genial. Field work in particular he sought, joining a raid on the Nott residence. Suspected not only of possessing Dark artifacts, they were rumored to be housing escaped convict, Delphini Riddle. Harry remembered Delphi well, and couldn’t help but be grateful to her. She was the reason he was able to work so much overtime. Horrible thing to be grateful for, really. 

After the Notts, Harry observed the interrogation of Gretta Selwyn. Sister of Ingrid Selwyn, Harry couldn’t help but note. Gretta was the prettier of the pair, though Ingrid was still stunning. They were famous for being rich and beautiful. It appeared Gretta would now gain notoriety for her connection to Aemilius Carrow, fiance and possible Death Eater revivalist. Harry was considering the connection between the new Death Eaters and Delphi, though there was little proof thus far. 

Harry considered remaining at work, sleeping on a Transfigured cot. He needed to pop home to check on Socorro. Maybe he’d bring her to the office, so neither would have to be alone. Maybe he could stop by to see Severus. No, Harry scolded himself. No, he was not falling into those old habits. He would not go to Severus the day of his divorce, would not use the man as a means of forgetting. It wasn’t fair to him. Harry had been doing that for far too long. It didn’t matter that Harry wanted him anyway. It didn’t matter that, despite his best interests, he could not keep himself from the man he loved. 

The least he could do was minimize the harm to them both and not run back into his arms just because of the divorce. When he crawled back into Severus’s bed, it was going to be due to irresistible lust. It was going to be purely because he could never stay away, even when he tried. Severus was not going to be the balm to his sadness. Not this time. 

“Isn’t it past time you went home?” 

Neville stood in the doorway of his office. The noise outside was minimal, only the shuffling of paper, a few muttered voices. Harry glanced at the clock. It was nearly eight now. “I’d been thinking about it.”

“C’mon, then,” Neville said, lifting a container in his left hand. “Hannah baked cupcakes this morning.” He smiled. “We didn’t think either of you should be alone right now.” 

“She’s taking care of Ginny, then?”

“Yeah, her and Luna.”

“Good. Sure. Yeah. Let’s go home.” 

Socorro was curled up on the rug when the wizards Flooed in. She hissed in greeting, unfurling, following as they set themselves up on the couch. Harry reached down to stroke her head. Neville eyed her warily, but made no comment.

“I thought you might be with Severus. I’m glad I gave it a try anyway,” Neville said.

Harry focused on Socorro, embarrassed that he could be so obvious. “I thought about it. Didn’t seem right.” 

“That’s good,” said Neville. “It’s good that you can do right by them now.”

“Yes, Neville, I know,” Harry said bitterly. 

Neville raised his hands, placating. “It’s never too late to do the right thing. You have a good heart. I just wish I understood how you faltered here.”

“If only I understood myself,” Harry sighed. “There’s no excuse for it. I dunno. I guess I wanted him more than anything else. So much that I was willing to…” Harry swallowed, unsure if he was brave enough to name his sins. “I was willing to hurt people. I tried not to. I kept telling myself I was protecting them, that they never had to know and I could keep everything I wanted. Deep down, I think I understood the truth. I was hurting us all, whether they knew what I was doing or not.” A defeated shrug. 

“Is that why you can’t be with Severus? Too much history, too much damage?” guessed Neville.

“In part,” Harry agreed. “But really…what would we be like together? We’re not right for each other.”

Here Neville smiled sadly. “It wouldn’t be what you had with Ginny, but you’ll probably never find that again. It might be different, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t right. Or that it doesn’t work.”

“I didn’t expect anyone to try to talk me into it,” Harry snorted. 

Neville was quiet as he considered this, sitting very still as Socorro slithered by. “I just think you’re doing yourself a disservice to not even try. Don’t you love him?” 

“Of course!” Harry snapped. “I didn’t ruin my family for lust. I’m in love with him. I’ve been in love with him. I love him so much it drives me actually crazy, because only a crazy person does what I have! But love isn’t enough, Neville. It’s not enough to force the pieces together!”

His friend laughed. “Harry. Love saved you. And you saved us with love. Why do you underestimate its power now?”

* * *

It was not only Ginny and Harry who required distractions that day. Severus remained at St. Mungo’s hours longer than was custom, considering all the while the various witches who had implied their willingness to share his bed. Ravenna Zuccarro had provided titillating conversation as well as an exhilarating romp. After she had expressed her willingness to see him again. Severus knew the treat he would be in for with her, tempted by the company of an intelligent and attractive witch. Also appealing were dishes untasted. Musidora Vale in particular was adamant to fuck him, if only for the novelty of a man thrice her age. 

Better any of them than the truest seduction. The Potters finalized their divorce just this morning. Per usual, Harry would show up at his doorstep, begging for solace. If he went home tonight, Harry would be there. Severus could not face Harry’s allure and deny him. He was pathetic enough, weak enough, to have Harry however he could. The boy was always pliable in his emotional torments. Severus could push him to his knees, slip his cock into that wet mouth, could fuck his throat raw. He could shove Harry into the door and have him right there, preparing him only with hurried spells and sink right into the welcoming heat of him. Severus could shove him face first into the couch and ride him until he howled, until he woke their son and the neighbors with the magnitude of his pleasure. 

No, it would be for the best to entertain other offers. An unformed thought lingered in the back of his head, warning him against surrendering to that desire. Doing so would only harm them both. No, if he took Harry again, it would be because Harry wanted him. Not a distraction, not a salve, but Severus for himself. 

“I thought you might be celebrating with Harry Potter tonight.” 

Severus paused in his note-taking, not bothering to look up at the figure filling his office door. He knew Esther’s appearance well. By the neutral, if cool, tone of her voice, he knew the bland expression she wore. Knowing what had befallen them after their last interaction, he also knew the shadow of disgust and hurt that would linger in her eyes. Severus did not need to lay eyes on her to see her. 

“I do not imagine Harry will care to celebrate the end of an era,” Severus drawled. 

“What about you? You finally won. Won’t you celebrate?” Esther asked.

Severus calmly finished his sentence, then set aside his quill, a flick of the wand rolling the parchment. “I would not call this winning.”

Esther was quiet, but he knew she remained. He could feel her presence as he returned ink pot and quill to his drawer, sending the scroll to join the rest of his research, putting away stray ingredients. She was still standing there, watching him, as he donned his cloak. 

“Did you sleep with me to get back at him?” Esther asked.

“Not in the beginning,” Severus admitted. “When I realized the…effect…it had on him? Yes.” 

“You’re a real bastard,” Esther said, though his honesty had loosened something within her. The ice in her eyes began to thaw. 

“I am,” Severus agreed. It was not easy for him to express himself. Still, he did not feel right for using her. Esther was a brilliant, gifted witch. Severus did not wish to romance her, but he had genuinely enjoyed her company. It began as a means of release for both of them. Severus thought, for a time, they might be friends. “I regret…” Words failed him, an uncommon occurrence. How to say he was sorry? What was it he was sorry for? He did not regret the sex or her company. He had never given her a false impression, or false hope. Severus had always been very direct with what he desired. It was his changing intentions in the course of their relationship that he felt guilt for. It was the transfiguration of natural human drive into a weapon to wield against his love. Unfair to Harry, and especially unfair to Esther. 

“You’re rubbish at this.” Esther almost smiled. “Will you tell me about it?”

“Why?” he asked suspiciously. 

“Color me curious,” Esther said. “You were one of few people I could talk to, Severus. I thought we understood each other.” There was much they had in common, true. But there was just as much Esther would never understand about him. “Maybe I was wrong. But I want to understand. I want to know why you did what you did to me. Why this fell the way it did.” 

“I could use a drink,” Severus said hesitantly.

“That’ll loosen your tongue,” Esther nodded. “C’mon, then.”


	20. Without Hope We Live On In Desire

Bright and early Friday morning found Harry Potter knocking on Severus’s front door. Generally the brat had become accustomed to letting himself in through the Floo, invited or not. Harry looked dashing, hair windswept and wilder than ever, cheeks flushed in the cold, bundled and layered against the snow. 

“I see you’ve developed manners,” Severus said, letting the boy in. Not that he minded overmuch, Harry Flooing or Apparating directly into his home. Severus had always taken it as a level of comfort he wanted Harry to have with him and his house. Severus wondered if the same unidentified plot was worming around the boy’s skull, as well. 

“Yes, well, I had to learn eventually,” Harry joked. 

“Why are you here?”

“Well, I was going to do some birthday shopping for Albus this afternoon, and I wondered if you might want to come along?” Harry asked. “I’m taking off work early, say around three?” 

Albus’s birthday was only a few days away, the upcoming Monday. Leave it to Potter to wait until the last minute. Though, to be fair, Severus himself was still unsure of what to get for him. He always struggled to find appropriate gifts for anyone. As the years went by, it only became harder, running out of what minimal ideas he had. Severus wished he could find the same spark of inspiration that led him to the snake he’d given Harry. 

What Severus was most unsure of was why Harry was here, and why he was asking him to join in. Perhaps Harry thought he could help Severus choose a more suitable gift. “Very well,” he finally said. 

“Great!” Harry beamed at him. The brightness of it warmed Severus, though he could only bare to look upon it for so long, glancing away lest it become too overwhelming. 

“You might have owled the invitation,” Severus pointed out. 

“Yes, well.” Harry shuffled. “I missed you.” 

Only openness in those verdant depths. Shapely mouth frowned seriously. Severus could not help but swoop down kiss the downturned corners. Blasted boy and his honesty. Severus could not well say he had also missed Harry, but he could show him.

* * *

“Godgodgodgodgod!” Harry chanted the word helplessly as Severus drilled against his prostrate over and over again. The headboard slammed into the wall repeatedly as Harry clung to its edges. Tan skin was slick with sweat, and Severus wanted to trace his tongue down that delectable spine, if only he wouldn’t lose his pace. Instead he shifted his grip on Harry’s hips, fucking into him urgently; he knew Harry was close, and he would not be far behind. The sound of flesh slapping flesh, his balls hitting those firmly muscled cheeks, could barely be heard over Harry’s voice, but it certainly added to the erotic music echoing these walls. 

“Good morning, Pops!” called James cheerfully, knocking a greeting on the closed door. “Good morning, Dad!” 

Severus and Harry stilled. James’s chuckle could be heard as he headed downstairs. Clearly they had forgotten to set up a Silencing Charm, so intent were they upon each other. Severus had never needed one before, but he had not seen any lovers here since James moved in. It had not been necessary, until now. 

“Shite,” Harry muttered. 

Severus pulled himself free, waiting until Harry shifted down, turning over, before pouncing. A perfectly innocent interruption had not ruined the mood for Severus. “He already knows,” Severus pointed out, shoving Harry’s legs to his chest and slipping back inside of him. Harry moaned, back arching, neck long and exposing every bruise and bite Severus had placed there not long ago. Pleased with his artwork, Severus rocked into his lover, bracing himself on the legs he held down. 

Sweat slid down his nose, dripping off onto Harry’s chest. Harry did not seem to mind, so intent was he on howling as Severus worked into him. Severus watched his cock disappearing into the tight, hot channel around him, entranced by the give of Harry’s body, welcoming him in. It was unbearably arousing, tipping him over the edge before he was ready, grunting as he spent himself inside of his lover. A few lazy thrusts to wring every drop. Harry was sobbing as he came soon after, throbbing red cock shooting its load into the sparse black hair of his stomach.

As Severus’s cock popped free of it’s snug embrace, he paid no mind to the mess as he sank down on top of his lover, catching his breath against warm neck. With arms and legs, Harry held him close, puffing hot air into his ear. 

“There’s a hole in the wall,” Harry admitted guiltily as his pulse settled. 

Bracing himself on one arm, Severus scowled down at his lover. “I’d be very disappointed if there wasn’t.”

Harry’s face split into a grin, screwed up as he tried to hold back, but couldn’t stop himself from bursting into laughter. Severus quickly ducked his head back into Harry’s neck to chuckle. Harry’s hands affectionately traced his shoulder blades, sighing with contentment as his laughter faded. 

“You should probably get to work soon,” Severus reminded him, reluctantly rolling to the side, freeing the toned, tanned body beneath him. Harry rolled onto his side to face him. 

“I could just take the day,” Harry suggested. He took one of Severus’s hands to kiss the palm. 

“I have work, as well, Potter,” Severus added dryly. Harry did not look at him as he nodded, still holding his hand. Severus reached up to cup his face. Forty-two years had lined that face, but he was handsome still. Hard even now to look into that man’s face and not still see “the boy.” However dark or difficult life became, whatever life threw at him, there was an eternal youthfulness to him, a beauty born of love and hope and generosity. “Perhaps, I, too, could take the day.” 

The smile Harry tried and failed to hide was well worth it.

* * *

Waking up to the sounds of his fathers’ rather wild sex created a jumble of conflicting emotions within James. At first, he was annoyed at being woken so early. By the time he made it out of bed and into some clothes, he found himself experiencing a growing sense of amusement and gladness. Age had certainly not dulled their passions, had it? There was also the fact of them being his parents, and the natural wish to see them together. Hovering on the edges of that happiness, was his sorrow, his bitterness and anger, remnants from months ago that never quite left him. They were together now, enjoying themselves, when his poor mum was alone and mourning her marriage. Wasn’t it a betrayal to his mum, as well, to be so pleased they were with each other? Wrong to be hopeful for more than just sex to grow between them? Envy that they could have each other while Teddy could barely stand to look at him? 

The positive feelings far outweighed the negative, and he found himself smiling and whistling as he fixed himself some tea and chocolate biscuits for breakfast. Difficult to enjoy the good with the shadow of the bad hanging overhead. The baby offered solace in a form of a kick to the ribs. James cringed and patted his belly. “Thanks, love. I think.” 

After the biscuits, James set about fixing himself some toast with ice cream, humming as he carried his plate back to the table. Chocolate crumbs were waiting for him on the table so he scooped them up and sprinkled them on top of the ice cream. 

“That’s not sanitary,” Harry joked as he walked past, ruffling his son’s hair. 

“That’s not breakfast,” Severus remarked, glaring disdainfully at James’s chosen meal. 

“It’s toast!” James defended. The pair disappeared into the kitchen. James watched them go. The ever so slight limp of Harry. The easy affection of Severus’s hand on his lower back. The warm smile Harry offered over his shoulder at the touch. Their quiet conversation, the intimate laughter. The ache in his chest was bittersweet. Embarrassingly, tears blurred his vision and he glared down at his round stomach. “You stop that. This is your fault.” 

Harry and Severus joined James with their own breakfast not long after, simple eggs and toast for them. Harry cleared his throat as he sat down, the quick flinch as arse met chair causing Severus and James to both hide smirks behind teacups. Severus’s was smug, James’s amused. Harry flushed and cleared his throat a second time.

“Err…We’re sorry about this morning, James,” Harry said awkwardly. “We should have put up a Silencing Charm.”

James moved to drink more tea to regain his composure, but found it empty. The pot zoomed over, spilling more hot liquid into the cup. “Ah, well, I needed to be up anyhow. All the, err, banging was more effective than my alarm clock, anyway.” 

“Uh. Right,” Harry said, face bright red now. 

“Perhaps your father and I should wake you every morning,” Severus muttered into his bread. 

Harry and James gaped openly at him. Severus chewed his food, pretending not to notice. James couldn’t help the little leap in his chest, wishing it meant something, unsure if it did. If his dad was around all the time, then…They were in love, weren’t they? They couldn’t well have sex every morning if it meant nothing, right? Wouldn’t that mean Harry would have to stay the night? Severus couldn’t well expect him to turn up at six every morning just for a shag, right? 

“I think he needs a better alarm clock,” Harry finally said faintly. 

“Hmmm,” Severus said, glancing up at him. There was a spark in their blackness, a heat that caused James to drop his soggy toast. Okay, this was getting a bit out of hand, wasn’t it? He was undressing Harry with his eyes, for Merlin’s sake! Hadn’t he had enough yet? 

“This went from funny to gross very quickly,” James said. 

“You’re a very dirty old man,” Harry teased Severus, offering a playful kick under the table. 

“My apologies,” Severus remarked, though he didn’t sound the least bit sorry. The three fell into uneasy silence. Severus continued to shoot Harry increasingly interested glances, while Harry coyly smiled into his eggs. James had never seen his dad react so. Matters between his mum and dad had always been easy, sweet. Never this tension, this insatiability. It was curious, this magnetism between them. Could it be explained away by the newness of this particular aspect of their relationship? Or had it always been this way? Would the excitement die as time passed and they became comfortable? 

At precisely nine his mother knocked on the front door. Ginny made a big show of arriving at Severus’s door. Per their plan, Severus answered, greeting her cordially. Ginny was all smiles, shaking his hand, greeting James with a hug. Harry hid upstairs and neither Severus nor James mentioned his presence. Bidding a friendly farewell to his father, James and Ginny climbed onto the Knight Bus with instructions to head to St. Mungo’s. 

All of Severus’s nosy neighbors would have plenty to say, but none could honestly say anything was amiss. As far as the world was concerned, all parties involved were handling the situation just fine. The Potters would never present anything but a strong, united front, even in the midst of their devastation.

* * *

Teddy was already waiting at St. Mungo’s when Ginny and James arrived. Punctual, as ever. The three exchanged awkward smiles of greeting, with Ginny attempting to break the ice with a quick hug. She patted Teddy’s back and pinched his cheek. “This is your first time seeing the baby. Are you excited?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah.” Teddy glanced uncertainly to James, then quickly away again. “How are you?”

A thousand bitter words flashed through James’s mind. Fat. Ugly. Alone. Sad. Mad. Achy. Swollen. Hungry. Irritated. On and on. James swallowed them all, saying nothing instead. Ginny filled the silence by asking Teddy about his current job. James was called back while Teddy was still explaining he’d been four months with the owl post office, about his hours and benefits, his tasks and so forth. 

“I’m going to stick with this one,” Teddy said solemnly as they entered the room. “So I can take care of James and the baby.” 

“That’s wonderful!” gushed Ginny. “You’ll do well there. I bet you see all sorts of interesting people.” 

For the second time that day, James suffered a conflict of his emotions. On the one hand, the idea of Teddy settling down for his sake set his heart flying loop-the-loops around his chest. Not just the baby, but James, too. And Teddy had actually looked at him! On the other hand, James knew Teddy didn’t like staying at one job for too long. He’d grow bored of it. James didn’t doubt for one second that Teddy would keep his word, that he wanted to do right by his little family. It was James who wasn’t sure he wanted that life for Teddy. James liked Teddy bouncing from job to job, always buoyant, alight with the thrill of new experience, enthusing about all of the tasks and facts he was learning. It was part of what James loved about him. He didn’t want to see that passion die away. 

“How have you been feeling, Mr. Potter?” asked Healer Jokull. 

“Fine, fine,” James replied absently. 

“Alright, well, let’s have a look,” the healer said. With a wave of his wand, a projection of light hovered over James’s midsection. Ginny and Teddy gathered near as the image of the baby was formed. 

It didn’t matter how many times James had seen this, he still grinned as he watched the light-baby squirm in the air. That was his child, the one growing inside of him now. Not just his child, though. James glanced at Teddy who wore a dazed, awed smile as he beheld the image. Sensing his look, Teddy turned to him. His irises blazed a bright yellow now, glimmering with untold joy. Before James knew what was happening, Teddy swooped down to kiss him. It was a quick, but soft caress of lips against his, then Teddy was kissing his forehead.

“That’s our baby,” Teddy breathed. 

“Yeah,” James said giddily.

“Are you still wanting to keep the gender a surprise?” Healer Jokull asked. 

“C’mon, Ted, convince him!” Ginny urged, tone falsely light. James barely registered this. 

“No, I like the idea of it being a surprise,” Teddy said. “That will make it extra fun, won’t it?”

“My thoughts exactly,” agreed James. For a long time after, he couldn’t stop smiling. Teddy, too, wore the traces of joy in pink cheeks and yellow eyes, grinning from ear to ear so broadly it must hurt. He met James’s eyes more often now, walked closer to him, more at ease than they had been in a long time.

* * *

Seeing as how the appointment had gone so well, Ginny offered to treat both boys to brunch. It had surprised Ginny, at first, to see Teddy be so openly affectionate with James. It made sense, when she thought about it. He was seeing his baby for the first time. It was a special moment. The kiss didn’t necessarily mean anything, and even if it did, it was what James wanted. Ginny was not so sure it was what was best for either of them, but that might be a lesson they needed to learn for themselves.

The Leaky Cauldron was familiar territory. Hannah greeted them warmly, seating them at a secluded table, and tending to their orders herself. James and Teddy sat side by side, only a few inches apart. However she felt about it, it was good to see them both in such good spirits, particularly around each other. Ginny loved Teddy dearly, had watched him grow up. Peeved as she was regarding his treatment of her son, she couldn’t help but feel warmly towards him. Motherly, even.

Perhaps she would speak with Harry and Severus about this development, loathe as she was to speak to either of them. It would not do for the baby to get caught in the middle of ugly parental drama. Hadn’t their own tangled web of deceit and heartbreak warned them off? Hadn’t James been affected enough by this to not want similar for his own child? 

“Have you thought of baby names?” Teddy asked.

“Some,” James said. “You?”

Teddy shrugged. “I thought something to honor my parents. I know my mum wasn’t fond of Nymphadora, though.”

James nodded. “Yeah, I thought of that. See, I found out my dads originally wanted to call me Evan James. Because my grandmother was Lily _Evans_ , get it? To honor her? And Evan is a form of John, right? Wasn’t that your dad’s middle name? So Evan James for a boy. Or Evan John, if you like? And for a girl, maybe Evanna Dora. Or Eva Dora. It’s all the same general idea, you know?”

“So like your father,” Ginny commented fondly. This was the first she’d heard of names, at least from James. She remembered all of the interesting combinations Harry and Lily had invented for him. 

“I like that,” Teddy said. Flecks of gold burst through the yellow of his eyes, like little fireworks. James beamed at him. “Baby Ev!” 

“Baby Ev is excited,” James laughed, casually grabbing Teddy’s hand, placing it on his stomach. 

Ginny was content to watch them, wishing that in another world this could be okay. That she didn’t have to worry about the adoration lighting Teddy’s face or the glee overtaking James’s. In another world they could be young and in love, expecting their first child. In another world that child hadn’t been created from a line of infidelity, had instead been a product of pure love. In another world, Ginny could be a doting mother and grandmother. In another world, her pleasure at watching them wouldn’t be tinged by such worry. 

Only when Hannah delivered their food and left them in peace did Ginny speak. They were words she half wanted to keep to herself, hoping her silence would drive a wedge back between them over time. If she didn’t divulge the truth, it was bound to happen. 

Ginny knew well by now the price of silence. 

“Teddy,” Ginny said, prodding blindly at her own food. “You should know, James did not trick you into getting him pregnant.” Teddy had clearly forgotten this particular detail in his enthusiasm for his unborn child. The brightness of his face dimmed as this came back to him now. “You’ve seen the news. You know James is Snape’s son, biologically.”

“Yeah, I’d heard,” Teddy said cautiously.

“The truth is, the potion was not ready when Harry took it. The tester he used left him permanently capable of pregnancy. He’s been taking contraceptives since he had Albus. Only, what we didn’t think of was that the ability might have passed onto the boys. James did not have to take the potion to get pregnant; his body was already capable of doing so. He never knew it was possible, so he didn’t know to protect against it.”

“Oh Merlin,” Teddy breathed. He stared down at his food for several long seconds before turning to James, who braced himself. Eyes now a yellow-brown and wet with unshed tears. Guilt and pain and confusion swimming through them. His voice cracked as he spoke. “I’m so sorry, James. I had no idea.”

“I know,” James said quietly. “I understand.”

“I should have trusted you.”

“You had no reason to think it was possible,” James said. “I don’t blame you.” 

“This doesn’t make it okay, mind,” Ginny sternly pointed out. “Let’s not forget how this all came about.”

“I know, Mum,” grumbled James, prodding at his chicken moodily. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Teddy mumbled, dropping his gaze back to his plate. 

Maybe that reminder would be deterrent enough. Ginny certainly hoped so, as she tucked into her own meal. It was a pity that the remainder of their time was spent in pensive silence.

* * *

The Wizarding shops of Falmouth had little to show Harry and Severus. It was early yet, and the looks they received were easily ignored. The people of Falmouth knew Severus Snape well, were accustomed to his presence, and the accompanying Harry Potter was no surprise to them. If they had opinions, they kept them to themselves. Falmouth was a peaceful little town. No need to stir the pot now. 

It had not occurred to Severus that this would be an issue, when Harry invited him along. Truly he hadn’t thought of much, only his need to purchase a birthday gift for his son, and the opportunity to spend time with the man he loved. Better still when Harry confessed to missing him. The morning had been a pleasant one, fucking Harry’s brains out and sharing breakfast with their eldest son. It was only when opening his door to Ginny Potter did he realize his error, spotting Millicent Goyle’s ugly face pressed against her living room window. 

Through everything, Harry and Ginny had not let the public tear them down. At least, they didn’t let the public know how they were affected. Even this morning, Ginny had made a show of cordiality, even as fury blazed through her smile, her nails sinking into his hand when shaking. 

If they could do that, with their own reputations more pristine than his own, having lost more face than he had ever possessed, Severus could walk into town with Harry. 

Falmouth shops having failed them, Harry and Severus braced themselves for the scrutiny of Diagon Alley. They did not spot Ginny, James, and Teddy on their trek through the Leaky Cauldron, but they did greet Hannah Longbottom with promises to return for a late lunch. 

The force of the public’s attention squeezed around them like a vice. Severus saw the stiffening of Harry’s body, the raising of his head, the fake smile he plastered as he waved to the staring masses. Severus stood taller, mimicking Harry’s stance, but he did not smile. No, the natural occurrence of his face fell to scowling. Harry’s eyes glazed, passing over the numerous faces. Severus met each gaze he could, warning them off with a frown and a glare. 

“Shall we pay the Weasleys a visit?” drawled Severus, eying the brightly colored storefront. 

“Best not,” Harry said, tone cheery. “I think Flourish and Blotts. He’s rather like his ‘Pops’, our Albus.”

Severus felt his lips quirk for a brief instant, quickly regaining control of his facial muscles. “That he is.”

It was Severus who browsed the shelves, Harry following, not paying much mind. Severus knew best what might interest their son. It was Darker subjects Severus and Albus were naturally drawn to, but he thought better of purchasing any such tomes. Instead Severus considered Albus’s inclination towards the hidden and mysterious, as well as his aspiration to become an Unspeakable with the Ministry of Magic upon graduation. 

“Well, Potter, I’m surprised you had the balls to show your face,” sneered a nearby witch. 

“I didn’t think his sort had balls at all,” giggled her friend. 

Severus paused in his perusal, examining Harry in his peripheral. He could almost hear the grinding of Harry’s teeth as he smiled. “I think I’ll just show my face, if it’s all the same to you.” 

Always a clever retort, that one. Severus held back the smirk twitching in his cheeks. As the witches closed in on them, Severus pulled a book from the shelf and turned to face them. Both were squat, round witches. One possessed beady eyes and pouting lips. The other had hardly any lips at all, but an abundance of warts. 

“Oh, you think you’re clever?” snorted the warty one, the instigator. “You should be ashamed of yourself. And you, Severus Snape!” 

“Necessity demanded I dispense with shame long ago,” Severus replied smoothly. 

“Shacking up with a Death Eater,” tutted the beady-eyed wench. “I’ve sent my owls to the Minister demanding your removal, Mr. Potter! We can’t have trash like you heading our law enforcement!” 

“I didn’t think it would matter, seeing as how you’re carrying it all around in your head,” Harry retorted. Severus very badly wanted to kiss him in that moment. The dark amusement glimmering in those emerald orbs was doing an interesting number on his libido. 

“Why you little gremlin!” shrieked the warty one.

“There, now!” shouted a tall, graying wizard, rushing over. He glowered at Severus and Harry. “Leave the poor lasses be!” 

“He’s got a nasty tongue, that one!” said the pouty one, pointing at Harry.

“I’ve always found it delightful, myself,” Severus said. 

Harry fought a smile, nudging him sharply in the ribs. 

“Now, there’s no call for all that!” the wizard exclaimed, brown eyes flashing in outrage. He was mostly thin but for a very round belly, his gray hair and beard wild, tangling together. He stepped right up to the both of them, shoving a crooked finger beneath their noses. “Certainly not within ladies’ hearing!” 

A shorter, plumper wizard ran up, tugging on his friends’ arm. “Don’t you know he’s a Death Eater?” 

“All the more reason, then!” the taller wizard argued.

“Shouldn’t even be showing their faces!” exclaimed the warty witch. 

“Death Eater.”

“Filthy whores.”

“Cheating slag!”

“Shouldn’t be showing their faces.”

“Dared show here together!”

“His poor wife.” 

“Should arrest them.”

“Tricked him!” 

Murmurs and whispers throughout the bookstore. Severus itched to pull his wand. Instead he swept forward, the sudden movement sending those nearby scrambling back. “If I am a Death Eater,” he whispered dangerously, “and he my lover,” looming tall over them, eyes narrowed hatefully, “why would you dare approach? It would be foolish, even suicidal of you to do so.” The tall wizard positioned himself between Severus and the women, arm trembling as he fumbled for his wand. Severus snatched it from his hand. “If I tricked him into my bed, tricked him into bearing my children, what is sparing you from my vindictive talents?” A quirk of the brow. “Have you not heard what Death Eaters are capable of? Are you so eager to find out?” 

As they scrambled away, muttering hysterically amongst themselves, Severus shoved the man’s wand back into his arms. Harry stepped up behind him, taking his arm gently. “You shouldn’t have done that,” Harry sighed. “The press will run with it.”

“Let them,” Severus snarled. He peered down at Harry, who frowned in concern. Severus did not think he imagined that glint of desire in those green depths. “They expect me to be horrid, Harry. They have said much worse, I assure you.” 

“Then why are you so worked up now?”

“It was not myself I was defending.” 

A heartbeat. Harry blinked up at him. The hand on his arm tightened a brief instant before falling away. “I’d kiss you right now, if I dared.” 

“I’ve thought the same for a few minutes now.”

Purposefully they remained to browse, though neither could pay much attention to what the store had to offer. One of the clerks bobbed over to offer their apologizes and assurances they would not again be disturbed. They continued making a show of examining various books, appearing unperturbed by the entire incident, seemingly blind to the fearful onlookers. Severus had already settled upon two books by Pryderi Watson, _The Compendium of Magical Curiosities_ and _Peculiarities of Wizardkind_. Even Harry found his selection in the back of the store, a bookshelf that folded into a handsome leather case. 

The author himself happened to be in the shop that day, approaching them as they made their purchases. Pryderi Watson signed both books for free, loudly making conversation. Severus rather suspected Watson wanted the attention. He had a reputation for exploring oddities and scandals. The meeting was likely more beneficial to Watson than it was to them, though Albus would certainly be pleased to have the author’s autograph. 

The outing ended with late lunch, as promised, in the Leaky Cauldron. Hannah hid them away in a dark corner, with stern orders to nearby customers to leave them be. Severus could not be sure, but he thought he saw the flash of a camera.

“The press will soon claim we’re ‘dating’,” Severus snorted. 

Harry glanced around, hesitant and guilty. The words pulled him out of his high, back to reality. Severus regretted the necessity, the reminder that they were not, in fact, “together.” 

“They’ll make all the assumptions they like anyway,” Harry finally shrugged.

With a nod, Severus waited until Hannah deposited their food and drinks before continuing. “Why did you ask me to accompany you today?”

“I already told you,” Harry said stiffly.

“Because you miss me?”

Half shrug, half nod. He wanted to bark at him to not behave like a child, to respond with his words in the way of adults. Severus bit them back. 

“What of this morning?” Severus asked. “Shall we continue as we always have? Tearing off our clothes the moment we’re alone?”

“Don’t see why not,” Harry said. “We’ve never been able to stop, before.”

“Matters were different before,” Severus pointed out. Unknowable plots swarmed to the forefront of his mind, warning him off, telling him to stop now, lest all be ruined.

“Yeah, I was married before,” Harry hissed. “It was wrong before.” 

“Your wife acted as a buffer,” Severus said. _“Against things you cannot have,”_ he wanted to continue, but found he could not. The plans being made were unveiled to him at last, but it was too late to undo the damage. Harry heard the unspoken words, or at least grasped the implications. Harry stared into the distance, fighting back the words so clearly at the tip of his tongue. Severus paid this little mind as he settled back in his seat, amazed and horrified by what he had been doing. 

Never pushing Harry too hard. Mending what could be mended. Leaving room for hope, he realized. Leaving room for possibility. Rather than damage what they shared beyond repair, Severus had been taking pains to spare their potential. There were no grand pronouncements in place, only allowing that, one day, he might be foolish enough to allow Harry fully into his life and heart. 

Lunch was shared in silence.


	21. Lost Without Your Broken Love

Monday was not the best day to have a birthday, but the gifts awaiting Albus when he woke made up for it. A box of Honeydukes sweets from Lily, likely purchased during the weekend Hogsmeade trip. An illustrated guide to “charming witches” from James, as well as a few copies of _Wishful Warlock_ that Albus quickly hid under his pillow. The scantily clad witches on the cover were waving teasingly as he did this. From his mother a pocket watch, per Weasley tradition, glossy black with silver numbers and hands. If asked, it would tell you the time in a random language, which was good fun to Albus, an avid student of languages. From his dad, a bookcase that folded into a carrying case. From his father, two books signed by Pryderi Watson. 

“Wow,” Albus breathed, flipping open the sleek cover, tracing the name scratched elegantly on the cover page. 

“No reading now!” fussed Scorpius. “You still have mine!”

Scorpius’s gift was a book on Runic theory written by Ravenna Zuccarro. Albus tapped her name, raising a brow. “Really?”

Scorpius grinned sheepishly, pale cheeks turning bright pink. “Well, if things don’t work out with her and Severus, maybe she’ll take you instead.”

The author’s photo was on the back cover, and both wizards spent some time admiring her. Older, but devastatingly gorgeous. She had long, raven hair with vividly violet eyes. Her photo peered up at them from beneath long, thick lashes, her full cherry lips quirking up coyly. 

“Do you think they actually did it?” Scorpius asked.

“I sure hope not.”

At breakfast the boys discussed Albus’s potential as a future runologist, which surely had nothing to do with the seduction of Ravenna Zuccarro. In the end, he decided the pull of the Department of Mysteries was too strong, though he was sure he could recruit the skills of a more advanced runologist as needed. Eventually, because they could not help it, they whispered about the likelihood of Severus Snape actually involving himself with any of the women rumored to have approached him. 

“He’d be an idiot not to,” Albus lamented. He very well could not have sex with a woman his father had been with, even in his fantasies. 

“Yeah, but he loves your dad,” Scorpius argued. Ever the romantic was Scorpius. His parents had been madly in love until the end. Draco had still not moved on from Astoria, as she had been the love of his life, and he had no desire to find another woman. Albus often wondered if the torch Scorpius held for Rose was a byproduct of his parents’ undying devotion. 

“Love never did any of them any favors,” grouched Albus. Part of him envied that Scorpius had come from such pure, true love. That had Astoria lived, she and Draco would still be in the midst of their happily ever after. Such blessed fate was not gifted to everyone. 

On their way to their first lesson, Rose and Mabel caught up to them, offering their own gifts. Rose’s was a book for learning Mermish (that would correct your pronunciation and grammar, as needed). After a brief hug between cousins, Rose ran off to her Muggle Studies class. Mabel, whose Divination class was on the same path, continued with them. Albus unwrapped her gift as he walked, stopping to keep the gloves from falling.

All in a bundle were a new scarf, hat, and gloves the same shade of silver, all with detailing of black leather and mother of pearl buttons. “Wow!” Albus exclaimed, unfolding the scarf between two hands to properly admire. They were all very handsome pieces. Albus immediately wound the scarf around his neck.

“They’re alright?” Mabel asked, gnawing on her lower lip. “I made them myself. I wasn’t sure.” 

“You made those?” Scorpius asked. Albus barely heard him over the roaring rush of his eardrums. “They look like they sell them at Twilfitt and Tatting’s!” 

“Oh, they do not!” giggled Mabel. “I only-”

She only what, they never found out, because Albus grabbed her and kissed her, gloves and hat still clutched in both hands. Mabel squeaked, but kissed him back with enthusiasm. She tasted as sweet as ever. More so, even. She had the biggest sweet tooth, he knew, always with a treat at the ready. 

“Oi, we’re gonna be late, Al,” Scorpius said.

“Oh,” breathed Mabel, pulling away. “I…I’m glad you like them, Albus.”

“Yeah. I love them,” Albus said, blinking rapidly as Mabel darted off towards her Divination class. Scorpius grabbed his arm, pulling him towards their Ancient Runes class. Coldness seeped into him as he realized what he had done. He’d kissed Mabel! Mabel, who was worming her way back into his life and his heart, whatever he thought of it. There she had gone, crafting him gorgeous gifts, knowing what that would do to him. She had to know! No one could be so generous, so kind, and not understand the power it held! “Oh no,” he groaned. “What am I going to do?”

“Take notes, worry about the rest later,” Scorpius commented, shoving him into a seat in the back of the room.

* * *

Waking up in Teddy’s arms may have been pleasant, were it not for the sounds that woke him. “Not again,” James groaned. A large item crashed to the floor in his father’s room, a startled yelp that quickly turned into a pleasured cry. Teddy stirred behind him, blinking blearily. “Wha-” Teddy began. A deep, animal grunt from Severus accompanied by the headboard slamming into the wall. 

“Forgot the Silencing Charm again,” James grumbled, burying his burning face in his pillow.

“Shite,” Teddy said, rolling onto his back. James missed his warmth already. 

Unfortunately they were both fully clothed, and neither had gotten up to the antics his fathers were currently engaged in. The pair slept fully clothed, but cuddled close. Teddy had joined them for dinner last night, staying late to discuss the baby, their careers, tip-toeing around the life they may or may not share. It was Teddy who fell asleep mid-conversation, and James who daringly woke him with kisses. Rather than leave, Teddy stayed for a good snog until they both fell asleep together. 

Only to wake up to this. 

“I, uh, didn’t know Harry was here,” Teddy commented.

“Probably dropped by early for a quick pre-work shag,” James sighed. 

“Oh…that’s…”

Severus was saying something to Harry. Neither wizard could make out what the words were precisely, but the tone used assured them they were better off not knowing. Dirty talking bastard. James flopped an arm across his face, willing himself deaf. 

“What time is it?” Teddy asked, pushing himself onto his elbows and looking around. The alarm clock beside him jumped and up and down as it announced “SIX THIRTY EIGHT IN THE MORNING, SIR!” 

“Oh, bugger,” Teddy sighed. “I need to get to work.” 

“Lucky you,” grumbled James, sitting up to watch Teddy slip out of bed, locating his shoes, running a hand through his sandy blond hair. A wrinkle of his nose and the locks curled into a darling baby pink. James smiled flirtatiously at him. Teddy winked at him through the mirror. 

“Dad and I are going shopping later, for baby things,” James said. “If you’d like to come along?”

“Yeah!” Teddy agreed. Both wizards cringed as they listened to the men next door reach their climax. “I’d like that.” 

Teddy left for work through the Floo. James laid in bed, listening to the movement next door. At five past seven he heard what could only be Harry stumbling his way downstairs. He’d be late to the office. James wondered if anyone would dare comment on this. His dad was Harry bloody Potter, savior of the Wizarding World, and Head Auror. Surely no one would, at least not at work. 

More difficult to tell when Severus headed downstairs, but James thought he heard a creak of floorboards so he struggled out of bed and waddled his way downstairs. Severus was wrapping a scarf around his neck, on his own way to work. 

“You forget the Silencer again,” James told him.

Severus paused, an ugly flush staining his cheeks. “Ah. My apologies, James.”

Sorry didn’t get him his sleep back, but it had gotten Teddy to work only an hour late. He’d hate to know how late he would have been if left to his own devices. 

“Teddy Lupin stayed the night here.” It was not a question.

James shrugged, flopping onto the couch. Standing was a bit exhausting these days. “Yeah. Nothing happened.”

Severus nodded, slipping on his gloves. Both wizards had more to stay. James wanted to ask if his dads were together now, or not. Demanding to know what his father’s intentions were with his other father. Ridiculous. And James was sure Severus had some smart comment about Teddy spending the night with him. Disgruntled homeowner or concerned father? A bit of both, perhaps. But neither voiced what was on their minds.

Only when Severus was pinching a bit of Floo powder did something else occur to James. “Pops?”

“Yes, James?”

“Dad, Ted, and I are going baby shopping this evening,” James said. “Will you join us?” 

A brief pause. “Very well,” Severus agreed. 

“You should ask Dad if he’ll cook for us first,” James suggested, holding back a mischievous grin. 

“You are perfectly capable-” Severus began, then turned to narrow his eyes at his son. James put on what he hoped was an innocent smile. “Perhaps I will.”

* * *

As with most days, James spent his time alone. With his breakfast of muffins he read the newspaper, entertained that _Witch Weekly_ was still convinced his parents were in a triad. _The Daily Prophet_ was now speculating his father was pregnant again, as well as rumors his mother was dating a Malfoy. After this morning entertainment, he responded to an owl from the Falcons’ coach, updating the team on his health and agreeing to the attend a function hosted by the team later in the month. It was nice to be included, despite how minimally involved he had been since signing with the team. James was really glad of his choice. He did not imagine many other teams would be willing to not only keep his contract, but go to such lengths to check on him and invite him to events. 

He’d have to hunt down some good maternity dress robes while they were shopping this evening.

For the most part, James was bored. He could not fly, could not Apparate to exotic locations, could barely fit in the Floo, even! The few family and friends still in contact with him had their own careers or school to occupy their days. Walking around town was not an option he preferred when alone. He had to use glamours in Muggle inhabited areas, and received too many stares even among Wizarding society. Everyone judged, and James was unused to such harsh judgment. He had always liked attention, but not like this. Not when so many people knew so much about him, and speculated so much more. 

Molly visited him around lunch, bringing by food and knitting, attempting to teach him the art. It did not take long for James to grow antsy, dulled by the monotonous work. His grandmother listened to his whinging sympathetically, sharing her own stories of multiple pregnancies, childbirths, and child rearing. 

“I dunno how you did this six times,” James grumbled, shifting in his seat for the tenth time in ten minutes. 

Molly smiled good-natured. “Well, your grandfather and I love each other very much,” she explained, face pink. And couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, James supposed. He knew another couple like that. “And I loved children. I enjoyed pregnancy, myself, but it’s not for everyone. Your mother hated it.” Molly laughed awkwardly. “I suppose that’s why she only did it the once. I wondered why carrying Lily was so hard on her when she thrived so with you and James.” Molly shook her head. “Well, now we know.”

“I wonder if my dad liked being pregnant,” James mused, prodding his wand at the pile of yarn in his lap. The lumpy half scarf became balled and twisted at the end. How many more siblings might he have had if Harry didn’t take contraceptives? Would he have wanted more, if not for the pressure of wife and lover?

“I always had a knack for house-spells,” Molly cringed, waving her wand and untangling his scarf. “We just haven’t found the right hobby for you, dear.”

By three in the afternoon she left, since James was ready for a nap. At half past five he woke to the sounds of Harry moving about in the kitchen, speaking in low tones to Teddy. They shared casual updates regarding their workdays as James pushed his way off of the couch, shuffling to join them in the kitchen. 

Steak and kidney pie was ready by six, when Severus Flooed home. To James’s delight, Severus swooped in to kiss Harry as he passed. Harry watched him walk away, flustered yet pleased. 

Dinner was delicious. Teddy and James laughed and teased. Harry and Severus exchanged glances full of questions and promises. It was not the family James had grown up with, but it certainly felt like a proper family. There might be hope for his fathers. There might be hope for Teddy and himself. 

The feeling persisted through the evening as they traveled to the Wizarding shops of Upper Flagley. Harry and Severus walked close, and James half wished they would close hands. They certainly brushed numerous times, touches that lingered. Teddy touched James himself frequently, hand on the shoulder or back or hip. James had not grinned so much in a long time, his facial muscles sore from it. He barely noticed the whispers and stares, let alone giving a damn about them. 

It was Severus who carried the pastel shopping bags filled with toys and clothes from Widdle Bitty Witchy Babies, to everyone’s amusement. He bore his chore with pride, standing tall, looking for all the world he was carrying more mysterious and dangerous items. It was Harry who carted around the shrunken, lightened boxes of furniture under one arm, his free hand finding excuses to touch Severus - brushing lint from his robes, prodding for his attention, steering the man or bracing himself against him. 

“Don’t tell them I said this,” Teddy leaned in to whisper. “But they are adorable.” 

“They are!” agreed James, glancing over his shoulder at them again. Severus did not smile, but James thought his expression was rather fond as he looked down at Harry, listening to what the man had to say. 

When James faced forward again, his eyes immediately landed on the outdoor seating area of a nearby restaurant. It was just his luck that the scene he landed upon involved his mother sharing dinner with another man. 

Ginny’s hair was curled and pinned back in a simple but elegant up-do. Simple and elegant was the theme of her chosen look, from her mauve colored dress to the matching shoes to her silver jewelry. Even her makeup was minimal, yet lovely. 

In the chair opposite hers, sitting tall and refined, was a familiar man in robes of navy and gray. His hair was sleek and so blond it appeared white. This was no work dinner. Draco Malfoy was looking at his mother with such soft, sweet joy that could be nothing but romance. Ginny’s expression was shy, but pleased. 

James stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at him. Teddy kept walking ahead for several moments, in that time Harry and Severus had come to stand on either side of him. 

“Jamie, what is it?” Harry asked.

“Ah,” said Severus, having already followed James’s gaze.

“Oh,” said Harry.

“What?” Teddy asked, backtracking to meet them.

“ _The Daily Prophet_ had it right then,” James muttered. “Malfoy? Of all people, Malfoy!”

“C’mon, James,” Harry said quietly, taking James’s shoulders and steering him to the nearest wall, out of the way of passersby. “Your mother was bound to date at some point. You didn’t seem to…err…have any problems with…” He trailed off, frowning. 

With Harry and Severus’s ongoing relationship, he meant. Recently James had been okay with, if not happy with, their intimacy. They were his parents! Of course, part of him enjoyed their coupling. If his mum and dad couldn’t be together, at least his dad and pops could be. 

Logically, he knew his mother would move on eventually. His mother deserved it. Of everyone, Ginny deserved to be happy. Deserved to be treasured and loved. Only, James hadn’t quite prepared himself for it. 

“She’s-she’s!” James began, but stumbled over his words. Betraying this family? Ginny wasn’t betraying anyone. She was a free woman. Why was he so upset? “She shouldn’t!”

“Why not?” Harry asked.

“Aren’t you upset? She was your wife for over twenty years!”

Harry swallowed, eyes flicking up to where Ginny and Draco sat. “I’m happy for her. Your mother needs to move on, for her own good.”

“But she’s Mum!” James exclaimed. “She…”

“What?” Harry asked calmly. “Should she be faithful to me, even now?”

Yes, thought James. That was it. Ginny, the stolid wife, remaining faithful and dedicated far past the point she should have. It was unfair, but that was the crux of it. Her role was so ingrained in his mind, in their family, he could not comprehend her desire to be anything else. 

“Awfully fast to move on,” James spat. “You’ve been divorced, what, a week?”

“We’ve been apart longer than that. She should have done this a long time ago.”

“You can’t tell me you’re happy with this!”

“Does it bother me? Yes. She was my wife for half my life, James. It’s strange to see her with another man, yes,” Harry confessed, tone agitated. “At the same time, I’m happy for her. I love your mother. I always have, and I always will. She deserves this, James.”

“Deserves what, throwing away this family?” James demanded.

“She is not throwing you away, James,” Harry said sternly.

“What? You think she’ll still wanna play mum to us when she joins the Malfoy clan? She’ll go play mum to Albus’s little friend instead!”

“Don’t you dare.” His father was glaring at him, finger raised to his face. 

“Why are you defending her?”

“She is your mother! And she deserves better than this.”

James slumped, all of the fight draining out of him. “I know.” With the resentment gone, he was left with a heavy sense of mourning. James thought he had moved past the dissolution of his parents’ marriage. Apparently he had not fully done so. 

Harry sighed, gripping the back of James’s neck, pulling him into a one armed hug. “Let your mum enjoy her night, yeah? Talk to her tomorrow. You’ll see.” 

“See what?”

“That she’s still your mother. That she still loves you. Our divorce didn’t change that. And her dating another man certainly won’t.”

* * *

Sensing this was a situation best suited for father-son talks, Severus and Teddy stepped into a nearby shop to give them privacy. It was a shop for general wizard household goods, so Teddy headed straight to the section for babies with Severus following close behind. 

James was upset, blindsided by suddenly seeing his mother on a date, when she assuredly had not mentioned such plans before. It was an overreaction, but that could be chalked up to pregnancy hormones. Her date being Draco Malfoy was what surprised Severus, but they were adults and free agents, as it were. 

Also forgivable was the flash of upset in Harry face once he spotted them. They had been together for a long time, only recently divorced. The two had shared a life together, had been through hell and back together. It would be unsettling to see her sharing dinner with an old school nemesis. 

No worse, Severus mused, than discovering your husband was shagging your most hated professor from school. 

He could tell himself it made sense, for Harry to feel something upon seeing his ex wife with another man. It did not quell the uneasy feeling that Harry was drifting out of his grasp. 

“I didn’t even know Aunt Ginny knew Mr. Malfoy.” Teddy broke the silence as he examined a set of temperature controlled baby bottles. 

“Our sons are dear friends, Mr. Lupin. They have assuredly had contact.” 

“Right.” 

It made sense, in a way. Schoolyard rivalries were of the past. Draco’s wife had died years ago now. He’d had time to mourn Astoria, and was now ready to move on. Ginny was fairly recently freed from a long, broken marriage to her childhood sweetheart. A short time, perhaps, but she had been ill-treated for long enough. By now she must be ready to explore the pool of potential suitors for one better capable of loving her. Both were purebloods, which would matter more to a Malfoy than a Weasley. Then there was the obvious connection of their sons being friends. 

The widower and the divorcee. It almost seemed natural for the pair to fall together, if only for a dinner. 

More natural still for two people to come together for the sake of their unborn child. Ever since the last appointment, Teddy and James had been inseparable. Teddy came for dinner, stayed the night, cuddled James, flirted with him. James had been lovesick over that boy for years. It had shattered him when Teddy distanced himself. 

Now that Teddy had seen their child, now that he knew the truth, he would be inclined to taking a chance of his child’s father. James, who had never moved past his childish crush, was happy to throw himself back into Teddy’s arms. It made sense, certainly, but it wasn’t right. 

“You have been seeing much of my son lately,” Severus commented, stepping nearer. They were towards the back of the shop, and Teddy was cornered, clutching a pack of nappies. “I hope for your sake it is with pure intentions.” 

Teddy was taken aback. “I…we’re having a baby.”

“Yes, I had noticed,” Severus snapped. “A baby is not reason enough to romance him.”

Teddy flushed. “I don’t think that’s any of your business!”

“It is my business, because it is my son’s broken heart you’ll leave trampled in your wake.” Severus’s voice was low, but deadly. He held eye contact, expression stern, drilling into his words all of the venom in his heart. “It is my grandchild’s life you will be upending should you discover your fickle heart leading you elsewhere.” 

“Easy for you to claim them now that someone else has done all the work!” Teddy was scowling, stepping to move past Severus. The man did not budge, now glaring down at the younger wizard. 

“If you wish to play daddy, you may do so,” Severus carried on, ignoring the boy’s harshly truthful words. “But be sure it is a role you are prepared to maintain. You do not get to drop by when it is convenient for you. If you want to parent, then do so. 

“Do not, however, toy with my son’s heart in the excitement of new life,” Severus warned. “A child is not reason enough to commit to a person. You would be doing yourself, your child, and James a disservice. Do not woo him, Mr. Lupin, unless you are very certain that it is him you want, for himself.” 

“What room do you have to talk? About any of it?” Teddy spat. “You let someone else raise your children!”

“Because I knew that I could not,” Severus retorted. Now he wondered. So certain was he that he would make an awful parent, when he had never really given it a chance. Better that he had not. Ginny had made a better mother than he a father. Better his children had such loving parents, rather than risk harming them with his inability to care for them. “You see what a mess our lives have become. What a mess our lives have been. I speak to you from experience, Lupin. Many lives can be affected by your selfish choices.” 

“Yes, well, what are you doing, still leading Harry on, then?” Teddy shot back, eyes blazing as red as his face. 

“I am not ‘leading him on’,” Severus responded, straightening his robes indignantly. “I’m leading him home.”

Teddy’s mouth was wide open, prepared to spew more verbal grenades when the meaning hit home. He closed his mouth, eyes questioning as they faded into a warm brown. Severus shifted uncomfortably. It was certainly more open than he’d intended to be with anyone, let alone Lupin. 

“You really love him, then?” Teddy asked quietly.

“I really do,” Severus agreed. “What do you feel towards James?”

Teddy was quiet, slipping the nappies into his basket. “I dunno. I guess I need to figure that out.” 

Harry and James were calm and quiet when Severus and Teddy rejoined them. James inquired about the items Teddy had purchased, too lost in his own thoughts to wonder about the distant tone Teddy replied with. Harry had shifted his boxes into both arms, holding them against his chest. Severus rather regretted loss of the free swinging hand and the promises it held. 

“You had a talk with Teddy, then?” Harry asked.

“Observant of you.”

“Yes, well, he’s moping. The pair of you alone. We’ve all been worried about it.” Harry shrugged. 

“James is calmer.”

“Yes. Still rattled, but I don’t think he blames her. Much, anyway.” 

“And you?”

Harry snorted. “Can’t blame her for anything, can I? She could smother me in my sleep and it would be well earned.” Severus was unsure how to re-frame the question, or if he even should. Harry, catching sight of his face, sighed. “Does it matter, what I feel for Ginny?”

“Yes.”

His heart stopped beneath Harry’s scrutiny. Such confessions were not proper for a busy sidewalk. Barely proper in the dark privacy of his home. Being open in such a way, minimal though it might be, was opening himself up to pain the likes of which he would not recover from. Also, the possibility of joy thus far only stolen in pockets of time throughout an otherwise miserable life.

“I love her,” Harry finally said. “But I’m not in love with her. I don’t think I ever was. We were together for so long, though, you know? It’s…strange to see her with someone else. I’m so used to her being my wife. To her always coming back to me. It’s taking some getting used to, is all.” 

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” Harry said. “What we shared was brittle. We fought to hold it together for a very long time. Now it’s just…gone. It was everything I knew for so long. Of course it’s hard. But…we’ll move on. Her. Me.” Harry shifted his load, looking resolutely ahead as he said, “You.” 

Severus had no intentions of moving on, though he did not have the courage to speak this. He had been honest enough as it was for one day. Soon, though, soon he would set his heart on a platter and see what Harry would make of it.


	22. My Heart is Chained to You

It wasn’t until the weekend that James was ready to face his mother. He knew it was not right to be upset with her, and waited until he felt less raw before asking to meet with her. By that time, _The Daily Prophet_ and _Witch Weekly_ had reported the sighting, with accompanying photos. There had been ample opportunity for passersby to photograph them, seeing as how they were dining outdoors. 

Ginny knew what he wanted to talk with her about, he could tell. She greeted him with a nervous smile as she joined him in the Leaky Cauldron. Hannah bustled over to take their orders, giving James time to adjust to his mother’s presence. Still his mother, right? She wouldn’t be so unsure, wouldn’t have agreed to meet with him, if she stopped caring. Right? 

“I saw you with Malfoy,” James said without preamble once Hannah walked away. “Before the rags. We were shopping that day.”

“Oh,” Ginny said quietly.

“I’d have made an arse of myself if Dad hadn’t stopped me,” James admitted. “I was angry.” Ginny braced herself for defense, bright brown eyes fired with hurt and anger and guilt. “I shouldn’t have been, but I was.”

“You’ve adjusted fine to your fathers,” Ginny remarked stiffly.

“I was angry with them, too, for a while,” James reminded her. 

“Yes, and half a second later you were living with _Snape_ ,” Ginny hissed.

“I know!” This was not how James wanted this meeting to go, both of them upset with each other. “But he’s my parent, too, you know.” Ginny was preparing for war. James knew it had hurt both her and his dad when he chose Severus of all people to live with. It had shocked Severus himself, when James requested so, though he had asked no questions. James couldn’t say why himself, only that it seemed the right move. “Mum, please, I didn’t want to fight.” 

“I know,” Ginny said miserably. 

“I’m not mad anymore, not much,” James said. “Only…I wasn’t ready, I guess.” Looking back it seemed like such a silly outburst. Even now he was still bothered by it, though he had better control over his emotions. 

“I have to move on sometime.”

“I _know_. You’re a free woman now, you can do as you please. Only, you’re still my mum. Aren’t you?”

“Of course, James! How could you ask that?”

“Because you don’t have to be,” James said, embarrassed by how thick his voice sounded. All those silly emotions bubbling up within his chest, swarming to the surface so suddenly. 

“I chose you and your brother a long time ago,” Ginny reminded him, reaching across the table, laying her hand facing upwards. James placed his hand in hers, letting her squeeze him. “I love you both. I raised you. I watched you grow. You’re as much mine as either of theirs, James. Our divorce doesn’t change that. Me going on a date doesn’t change that.” 

James nodded, sniffling. Not quite trusting himself to speak, he used his free hand to pop a handful of crisps into his mouth. Ginny gave his hand another squeeze before withdrawing it. 

“I’m sorry you found out that way,” Ginny said. “I do plan on dating. I won’t parade them all around for you, but I will talk to you and your siblings if anything ever becomes serious.” He nodded his understanding. “Unfortunately, our family’s fame makes it difficult to date discretely.”

“Dad’s fault,” James muttered. If not for his father being the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, their Hero, life would be much simpler. The world wouldn’t be so well aware of his family’s multitude of sins. 

Ginny smiled. “Yes, Dad’s fault.” 

Hannah brought them their food, and from there they spoke no more of Draco Malfoy or Harry Potter or even Severus Snape. James excitedly caught his mother up on the Falcons’ event he would be attending later in the month, and the robes he’d bought, all of the items they’d purchased for Baby Ev, and even groaned at length about his daily boredom. Ginny inserted her own commentary on Quidditch teams, with suggestions for hobbies James might take up to fill his time from cooking to photography. There was no more question about James’s place in Ginny’s life; she was just the same as she’d always been. 

James was very lucky to have her.

* * *

“This is not quite what I’d had in mind for this afternoon,” Severus commented. He was stretched out on the floor, propped up on one elbow as he peered down at Harry, cupping his face in one hand. 

“You didn’t invite me over to fail at setting up a crib, then shag on the floor while my snake watches?” Harry asked, amused. 

Socorro slithered near their heads, hissing. The tip of her tail brushed through Severus’s hair as she moved. He spared her a suspicious glance. 

“Did she provide commentary?”

“Plenty.”

“Do you plan on sharing?”

“Hadn’t planned on it, no.” 

The way Harry grinned up mischievously at him was irresistible. Surrendering to his urges, Severus leaned in to kiss him slowly, deeply. Harry’s breath caught, arms slipping up and around him, pulling him closer. The sunlight spilling into the room was warm and inviting, the hardwood floor unforgiving, but both wizards were content to lay upon it if only to bask in one another. The snake hissed, causing Harry to pull back his head and laugh. Severus didn’t hesitate to press his mouth to the exposed throat, smiling against damp skin. Harry’s laugh turned throaty, sighing contently as it died away. 

“Sock thinks we are very determined to mate,” Harry said.

“Hmmm,” sighed Severus, now tugging down the collar of his jumper to nibble along his clavicle. The top was halfway up his stomach, his trousers halfway down his legs, having not bothered with full nudity for their lovemaking. Now Severus regretted his decision, wanting all of his Harry exposed to his mouth and hands. “I was rather determined to do something.”

“What was that?” 

Rather than answer immediately, Severus completed his way from left to right, tracing every inch of his collarbone with kisses and nips. Only with his work complete did he raise himself to gaze down at Harry. No longer a boy, however Severus liked to refer to him. Crinkles at the eyes and mouth spoke of years of joy, the scar on his forehead a mark of his fate and heroism, the lines and shadows on his tan skin proclaiming a life well and fully lived. 

Youth faded fast, but his beauty did not. More precious now, Severus thought, surviving all life had thrown at him. More beloved, as Severus had watched the transition, growing to appreciate all the man had to offer. Harsher and lovelier all at once, now that he was within grasp. 

“You have always been more to me than a vessel for release, Harry.” Black eyes held green as he quietly spoke. “I rather…” Difficult even now, to ask for what he wanted, the fear and expectation of refusal twisting his gut. “I would rather like you to stay.” 

Harry sat up, his movement forcing Severus to do so as well. His heart constricted in his chest. “You’re the one that said we weren’t meant for each other.” 

Harder now to press forward, hopes of eager agreement dashed. “I’ve been known to be wrong before.”

“You want, what? To be with me? To go on dates and hold hands and such?”

“Yes.”

“You want us to live together and…and…grow old together and all of that rubbish?”

“Yes.”

Socorro hissed something. Harry hissed in turn, fumbling to pull up his trousers. Severus moved to clothe himself, armoring against the oncoming tidal wave of agony. 

“I…I need to think about this,” Harry mumbled. 

“Of course,” Severus said coldly. 

Harry gathered Socorro in his arms, casting an agonized look at Severus before Disapparating. Severus stood in the new room, bare but for the box and the crib pieces laying jumbled against the wall. Such grand disappointment welled within, for a man so prepared for failure. Hope was an ugly fiend.

* * *

Saturday afternoon found Albus, Scorpius, Mabel, and Rose in the library. Mabel and Rose were dutifully completing their homework, while Scorpius helped Albus scour the Restricted Section for subjects of interest. If Albus was lucky he would be able to tie in his findings into an extra credit project for one of his classes. Whichever class most closely resembling his chosen topic, that was. Albus was not picky. 

More interesting than _Magick Moste Malevolent_ by Mortimer Muir was Mabel, who sat across from Albus. They had not been alone at all since the kiss, and neither had mentioned it. The kiss, however, was all Albus could think about. 

He missed Mabel. He missed kissing her and holding her hand. Mabel’s cheery smiles and radiant presence were his to bask in, but he wanted more than what she offered the world. Albus wanted Mabel as his own again. He missed that connection to her terribly. 

She knew his most dire secrets, now. What was stopping him? 

Without his realizing, Scorpius and Rose gathered their belongings, quietly moving to another table. Their silent communication with Mabel had urged them away. Now Scorpius was engaging Rose in conversation, just the two of them, as was a rare treat to him. This gave Mabel the opportunity to reach out, lightly tapping his hand to pull him into the present. 

“You kissed me on Monday,” Mabel said. “It’s Saturday now.”

“Um. Yes. I did,” Albus said. “And, er, yes…it is. Saturday. Today.”

“Why?”

“I…Well, I wanted to.” 

Mabel frowned at him. “So it was a spur of the moment kiss?” 

“Uh. Yes.”

“That’s not fair, Albus,” Mabel said, voice carefully constrained. “You know I still…” Albus cringed, pulse picking up speed, heartbeat thrashing loudly in his ears. “Care for you.” Both knew what word had been at the tip of her tongue. Albus wiped his sweaty palms on his robes. “You can’t just kiss me whenever you please.” 

“I’m sorry, May,” Albus said. “I wasn’t thinking, I just…”

Just what, exactly? Had been overwhelmed by the time and effort spent crafting his gifts? Inspired by the love radiating from the soft material? Her talent and generosity had spurred him to action, because he could not stand another moment not showing her how he felt.

And how he felt was…

Currently, queasy. His jaw locked, unable to complete his sentence. He could hardly remember what he’d been trying to say. The revelation that he actually loved her was…

Quite frankly, nauseating. Terrifying, even. 

“I was really happy when you kissed me,” Mabel whispered. “I would like very much to be your girlfriend again. But I’m not Almeda Fawley.” Fury flared in her sapphire eyes, trembled in her voice. “I am not a friend you snog in corners. I deserve more than that.” 

“You do, May,” Albus agreed unhappily. 

Mabel sighed sadly, stuffing her homework into her bag. “You’re not your parents, Albus. I hope for your sake you realize that soon.” Before leaving she gave him a tight hug, the scent of her chocolatey-foresty perfume lingering long after she was gone.

* * *

That evening, Albus wrote one letter, spelling two copies of it, sending three owls out into the night.

_Dear Mum,_

_Dear Dad,_

_Dear Father,_

_For a time I was lucky enough to call Mabel Longbottom my girlfriend. She is incredible. She has all of the kindness and loyalty expected of a Hufflepuff, with unexpected flashes of passion beneath her placid surface. It is very intriguing to me, sensing all of the fury and sorrow and mischief buried beneath sweet smiles and kind words._

_She is sunshine, my Mabel, brightness and color where I sought only shadow. Knowing her has been the greatest surprise of my life. Never would I have thought someone like her would spark this rush within me. I love her, I think. That’s the problem._

_Seeing what has happened to our family scared me. I’m scared of opening myself up to that pain. I’m scared of causing that pain in another person, let alone that person being Mabel. So I broke up with her, fulfilling the very deed I was so scared of causing. And I’ve hurt her more recently. I thought breaking up and avoiding entanglements would save us, but I’ve only caused more harm to us both._

_I miss Mabel dearly. But she is the last person on this planet I ever want to hurt. I don’t know what to do._

_It seems silly that I would come to any of you for help, the very people who caused this dilemma within me. But you’re also my parents. Who else do I have to turn to? Maybe one of you will have some insight, the wisdom of awful experience. Or maybe I could just hear words of solace from my parents? I don’t know, but please write back. I could really use your support right now._

_Love,_

_Albus_

* * *

When James returned home from lunch, Teddy was in the newly added nursery, setting up the crib. Likely his fathers had gotten distracted, as it had been they who volunteered to set up the nursery today. James sank into the newly erected rocking chair with a relieved sigh. Teddy glanced over his shoulder at him, offering a strained smile, then returning to work quietly. 

It had been days since he and Teddy were alone together. There had been no reversion to the days when Teddy avoided him, but there was a distance between them now that James could not put his finger on. Teddy no longer cuddled him or spent the night with him. Instead he came over for dinner when one of his fathers was present, heading out by the time Severus or Harry was retiring for the night. 

“How are you feeling today?” Teddy asked. 

“Tired,” James said. “And restless.” 

Teddy laughed. The sound of it, clear and bright as a bell, sent his heart cartwheeling around his chest. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Not so great, thanks.” 

Teddy hummed, the air between them easier now. Easier, but not what it once was. There was still an edge there. Or maybe that was all in his mind. Teddy had been so good since learning the truth. He didn’t know what could have happened to change things.

“You know I really like you, don’t you, James?” Teddy asked. The crib was done now, looking sturdy and handsome. It only needed the blue sheets they’d bought (cloudy and bright blue by day, starry and navy blue by night) and the hippogriff plush doll. 

“I should certainly hope so,” James laughed, hand coming to rest on the top of his swollen stomach. 

Teddy laughed as well, though uneasily. “You’re a gem, my Jame.” He moved to where James sat, kneeling down before him. James was already crying before he even spoke the words. “I dunno if anything might have worked between us, before, but I think…I think we can’t know now. With the baby…” Teddy bowed his head, pressing his palms on either side of James’s stomach. “If I’m going to be with you, I want it to be for the right reasons. And I can’t know that with Ev not here yet. It wouldn’t be right to you, if we…if we became anything only for Ev.”

“Yeah.” James nodded, not bothering to wipe the tears streaming down his face. Instead he placed his hands over Teddy’s. If Teddy wanted him, James would happily go to him, but he knew the truth deep down. No matter how badly he wanted Teddy, no matter how deeply he loved him, if anything happened now, James would never know if it was for him or the baby. 

“We have to focus on the baby for now,” Teddy said, voice breaking. “We’ll co-parent, right, like all the modern Muggles do. We’ll be sure we’re doing right by Ev. And if…in the future, if we…” Teddy shook his head. “I don’t want to give you false hope, but…if anything does happen, it would have to be in the future. A few years from now, if not longer. Understand?” 

James only nodded, closing his eyes as Teddy wiped away his tears, kissing his forehead. 

“Don’t wait around for me, alright?” Teddy said. “Promise me? I’m not worth all that.”

“You’re worth everything.”

“Enough of that,” Teddy chuckled, now kissing his nose. “You deserve the world, James. I’m very sorry I can’t give that to you right now.”

“You’ve given me plenty,” James half laughed, half sobbed. 

“Another baby joke? C’mon, James, you can do better than that,” Teddy teased.

“I’m going to be a dad now, it’s my duty to make bad jokes,” James laughed. He was brittle, his very bones unsteady. One wrong word and his whole structure would fall to dust. But there was vibrancy and life bubbling within, too. Even now, like this, Teddy brightened his day even as he trampled hope. 

There was deep sadness in those silver-gray eyes, but also love. It might not be the love James wanted, but it was warm and sweet, a balm to his battered heart. 

“Can I get a kiss for the road, then?” James asked, sitting up straighter. Teddy’s doubtful look made him grin slyly. “I promise not to seduce you.”

“You are a very difficult man to resist.” His words were light, making it difficult to determine whether he was joking or not. James certainly hoped he was not. Teddy rose to his feet, extending his hands to help lift James from the chair. 

James had not expected much, if Teddy acquiesced. A light peck on the mouth, if he was lucky. Oh, but James was luckier than he thought. Teddy was generous by nature. He knew what James wanted from him. A dramatic exit, a final passionate note to their disastrous romance. Soft hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his face upwards, mouth pressing tenderly against his own. James didn’t dare breathe. 

Baby Ev was between them, keeping their fathers farther apart than either wanted. James held onto Teddy’s wrists, holding his hands where they were. Every sad thought floated away, allowing him to enjoy what might well be his very last kiss with Teddy Lupin. It might have lasted an eternity, that kiss, both melting into one another, savoring the feel and taste. It was an infinite moment that ended too soon. 

As soon as Teddy broke away, James thought of what more he could have done, hands tightening around the wizard’s wrists. What more he should have paid mind to, the details already fading. Knowing he had asked for enough, James loosened his grip, freeing the man he loved. 

“Should I stay?” Teddy asked. “Or do you need time?”

“Are my dads here?”

“Severus is. He’s brewing downstairs.”

“You should go, then.” James did not want to be alone. He didn’t even want Teddy to leave, not really, but he knew it was for the best that he did. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know. You’re strong,” Teddy said. “I’ll come back tomorrow? So we can…sort things out?”

“Yes, tomorrow.” 

Teddy walked away, then, downstairs to Floo home. James watched him go. His natural inclination was to follow him like a puppy, to wait until he was gone from the house entirely. He would follow Teddy anywhere, he knew. It seemed he had inherited some unfortunate habits from his mother. Pathetic, to be so stupidly in love with someone that you would trample over your own pride just to reach them. 

Only when he was sure Teddy was gone did James drift downstairs in search of his father.

* * *

When Albus’s letter reached Godric’s Hollow, it was nearly dinnertime for Ginny Weasley. Her mind was drifting away from the interview notes she’d taken, now considering what ingredients she had in the house and what she could create from them. She detested grocery shopping, and now that she was on her own she put off doing so more and more. 

It was a Hogwarts barn owl that delivered the letter. Thoughts of dinner flew from her mind in her urgency to read it. With all that had happened, Ginny could only imagine why she would be receiving letters from either of her children. Normally they forgot all about their parents until Harry or herself reached out to them first to check in. 

The contents of the letter were nothing Ginny expected. No detentions, no fighting, no mudslinging. Just her lost, sad son. For a good half hour Ginny sat with that letter, lost in thought, unsure of what to say to Albus, but knowing that she needed to say something. Had he not asked, she would still feel the need to offer reassurance of some sort. But how? How to right what she and Harry and Severus had broken within him? Seventeen was so young to be so jaded. 

It was a hesitant knock on her front door that broke her reverie. Surprising, to find Draco Malfoy on her doorstep, rigid where he stood and clutching a bouquet of sterling roses. 

“I apologize for the intrusion,” Draco said formally. “I wanted to bring you these.” Here, he extended the bouquet, which Ginny accepted bemusedly. “I very much enjoyed our dinner this past week, and wondered if you…if you might consider joining me for dinner again?”

“Tonight?” 

“Well…Yes. If that is acceptable.” 

Draco was dressed in nice slate gray robes that complemented his silver eyes and fair complexion. Ginny glanced down at herself in simple house robes of sandy brown. Then down to the lovely, fragrant roses in her arms. Then over her shoulder into her house, remembering her son’s letter. Albus needed her. She didn’t know what to say, only that she had to say something. 

“Or another night, if this is a bad time,” Draco suggested.

“No, tonight is fine,” Ginny said, the words preceding her decision. It made sense, if she thought about it. She had no idea what to say. With some time and space, maybe she’d find clarity. Dinner with Draco had been surprisingly nice, if strange. He was nothing she was used to, a breath of fresh air. Exactly what she needed in a time like this. “If you don’t mind waiting while I change?” 

“Not at all,” he said, still polite, but there was a glimmer of relieved joy in his gaze. Ginny smiled, leaning in to peck him on the cheek.

“Thank you for the roses, Draco.”

* * *

Hannah and Neville sat patiently as Harry paced the floor. Socorro curled up at their feet, hissing words of comfort to her master. She did not need to understand the ways of humans to understand that Harry was distressed. Socorro was a good companion. Severus had done well in bringing her into his life. 

Almost he could see her waiting to greet him as he stepped out of Severus’s fireplace. Her at home in Falmouth. Him at home in Falmouth. Severus greeting him - how? With kisses? With barked words? With silence? The passion would die out eventually, wouldn’t it? What would be left when it did? Would they share the easy companionship he’d had with Ginny for so long? No, they had never been easy with each other. Always they rubbed each other raw. Could he spend his life that way? Always on the edge of love and hate? 

“He actually told you he wants to be with you,” Neville said after a time. “How often does he open up that way?”

Harry shrugged. More often with him than anyone else. Even then, rarely. It was like pulling teeth, his Severus spitting out his truth like acid. It was forced and painful, always under heat and pressure. For him to express himself unprompted was a treasure. Those moments were the most precious to Harry, because he knew the cost. Severus had been let down too many times, and was so guarded - the world had never been kind to him. So he had never learned to be kind in turn. 

“I’m scared,” Harry admitted. “I’m fucking terrified.” 

“Why?” Hannah asked. 

“Severus doesn’t know how to be with someone. He’s straight up said it,” Harry ranted. “But…what do I know? Look what I did to my marriage! Look what I’ve done to him all this time.” Socorro hissed angrily as he tripped over her tail. He apologized in Parseltongue, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes darting all over the room. “It would never work.”

“You don’t know that,” Hannah said, tone barely hiding her exasperation. “You’ve never tried.” 

“I know! All this time we’ve…We never thought this would happen. I never imagined I could…have him,” Harry rubbed his face. 

Neville and Hannah exchanged a look. It reminded Harry of what he and Ginny had always had, never needing words to communicate. Severus was too closed up for Harry to read properly. They understood so much of each other, yet the man remained a mystery in so many other ways. 

“So, what? You’ll spend the rest of your life shagging him and pining from afar?” Neville asked.

“I dunno,” Harry sighed. “Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Neville said.

“You’ve built this great tragic romance between you,” Hannah said. “Are you afraid it can’t live up to reality?” 

“No. Yes? I dunno,” Harry explained. “You can’t possibly think we could actually make this work.”

“Why not?” Hannah asked. 

“Well…it’s me. And him!” 

Neville laughed. “We always did think it an odd pairing.”

Hannah smiled. “Yes. I don’t know that either of us understands it, even now.” Hannah lifted her legs from the floor as Socorro slithered by. Harry couldn’t help but be amused. Socorro could sense their discomfort and toyed with them by inserting her presence. Eventually they would grow accustomed to her being around. Until then, he would let her have her fun. “But…Well, look what you and Ginny did. You fought so hard for your marriage and you made it work for a long time.”

“Yes, but that was Ginny,” Harry said. “Now look what became of it.” 

“I know,” Hannah said. “But think of all you went through, and how dedicated you both were to your shared life vision. It mattered. So you put in the work for it. So ask yourself, Harry…Why would you work any less hard for the man you love?” 

“You love Ginny,” Neville added. “But you never felt for her what you feel for Severus.” 

“The stakes are higher now,” Hannah said. “I understand it’s scary. But is it worth so little that you’d throw away this opportunity without putting any effort into it? You’re giving it up as a lost cause right out the gate.” 

“You’ve always loved fiercely, Harry,” Neville began.

“I know,” Harry snapped. He knew, knew too well, had heard the spiel all his life. The great power of _love_. It chafed. The feeling was too vast, too sharp, mercilessly flaying him alive. It was a tender wound inside that never healed, only worsening year by year. “Too much.” 

“He loves you, too, doesn’t he?” Hannah pointed out. 

Severus did. Severus loved him. Wasn’t that the problem? It might be easier to bear if it was his burden alone. The idea of them hurting each other, destroying each other…Love was powerful, yes. A powerful shield. And a powerful weapon. 

“You’re braver than this, Harry,” Neville said. 

“Stop thinking of what could go wrong,” Hannah said. “What could go right?”

In a perfect world, what could they have? Harry thought of the night Severus greeted him with a kiss as he cooked dinner. He thought of making love in the middle of the day, in the middle of the nursery. He thought of waking up in Severus Snape’s arms. Every small moment they’d shared over the years, moments he would close his eyes and pretend were ordinary, pretend the rest of his life wasn’t waiting for him outside of those arms. He thought of his daydream, of Socorro curled up in Severus’s living room. Their living room. He imagined, for a moment, silly arguments over furniture placement or where to have dinner. 

Those arguments turned to fights in his cruel imagination. He remembered the searing agony in black eyes when Harry told him he was reconciling with Ginny. The endless sorrow every night he would slip out of bed to creep back home. Guilt was a chain around his neck, holding him prisoner, weighing him down. 

Fear was a tide, sweeping him under, recalling harsh words that cut to the bone. The fight that drove him back to Ginny all those years ago, the words that rang in his ears, clear a day, even now. _”You’re a poor replacement for your mother.”_ Severus could be malicious, particularly when emotions ran high. When they fought, they fought dirty, determined to tear the other to shreds. _”You lack what whets my appetite.”_

Brutality had never been enough to keep them away from one another. They fought a losing battle. 

And didn’t that speak for itself? That cord between them, pulling them back together time and again? Would it withstand the test of time? Would it alone hold them together, with every other wall torn down, nothing standing between them? 

Before Harry could respond, the owl came, tapping on the nearest closed window. Harry let it in, tearing into the letter to distract himself. 

It didn’t help. 

“I’ve really buggered everything up,” Harry sighed. He tossed his friends the letter, then sank to the floor, letting Socorro slip into his lap. 

“ _You are strong, master,_ ” she hissed. “ _You will overcome._ ”

* * *

The latest test run of the dragon pox cure required testing the volatility of two ingredients. Severus spent the afternoon and evening considering his options, finally setting up several shield charms around his copper cauldron. When he was ready, he dropped the stasis charm on the brew within, then levitated the erumpent horn and occamy egg towards the cauldron. Sweat dripped down his brow, slipping down his long nose. Carefully, now, letting the horn sink into the bubbling concoction. A concerning whistling sounded as plumes of purplish gray smoke spilled out and around, filling the shielded area. The domed shape of the shields became visible as the smoke hit the perimeters. Alarming, yes, but as the seconds ticked by and the smoke began to disperse, Severus breathed, slowly moving the occamy egg once it was within sight again.

“Pops?” 

Only a twitch of his wand in response to the interruption. The egg wobbled unsteadily in the air, but held until Severus was able to lower it into the potion. A loud bang, and a rush as the brew shot up out of the cauldron, splashing to the ground, but contained within the domed shield. Severus sighed. If he could safely ground down the erumpent horn, it might just work. The reaction was not nearly as violent as he’d feared. 

“Idiot,” Severus snarled, spinning to face his white-faced son. “You have no appreciation for the dangers of potion craft.”

“You’re too smart to blow up the house,” James sighed, less defensively than was normal. He sank down to sit on the stairs. “Pops, I -”

“Anything might happen here,” Severus snapped. “I take precautions, but that does not mean my work is safe to disrupt. You see what can happen. Fool! Imagine there had not been shields in place. Imagine those shields had not been strong enough! You don’t think, James!”

“Stop being an arse, I just need my father now, okay?” James pleaded. 

The irritation bled out of him, recognizing at last his son’s grief. “What happened?” 

“Teddy doesn’t want to be with me.” James sniffed, rubbing his eyes hard with the palms of his hands. Severus frowned deeply, striding nearer. “He’ll be here for the baby, but he doesn’t think we should be together.” He laughed bitterly. “I imagine you or Mum gave him a talking to. Dad, even.” 

“I expressed my concerns,” Severus admitted.

“I should thank you, I think, but I really just want to hex you right now.” James’s laugh turned into a sob. Anxiety fluttered within Severus as he sank down beside him, awkwardly patting his back. 

Severus could not say he regretted his words to Teddy Lupin, nor did he regret the outcome. In fact, he was rather impressed the boy had taken his words to heart. Still, his own role in his son’s misery ate at him. He found he disliked the necessity, though it had in fact been a necessity. James was young. In time his infatuation would fade, and he would love again. The child he carried need not tie him to his first crush. There was a whole world of experience waiting for him, and James deserved it all. One day James would find true love.

In the meantime, his grandchild would be properly cared for by doting parents. Hopefully they would never be caught in the turmoil of their family. 

“I would rather you did not, but you may insult me, if you wish,” Severus allowed.

James turned, crying into Severus’s chest. Severus sat very still, patting uncertainly at his back. This was not the first time James had fallen apart on him. He was not the best equipped for such emotional disturbances. Ginny or Harry would be better comfort to him. Here and now, Severus was what he had, and Severus was not going to foist him elsewhere. He was the one James had come to, and he would offer what solace he could. 

Once the crying subsided, Severus quietly related his own sorrow of the day. “I invited your father to stay with me. As a partner, that is.” The words were difficult. Hard enough to open up to Harry, and he was one of very few people he had ever done so with. Now to confess this rejection to his son? But who better to understand than James, in this moment? 

James sat up, wiping his face. “What did he say?”

“He’s not here, is he?” Severus said coldly. 

“Oh.” James sniffed. “He’s stupid.” 

“I rather think he had the right of it,” Severus said softly.

“No,” James shook his head. “He’s a coward.” 

Severus could not think of a less cowardly person. His Harry was brave, always standing back up to fight another day. Denying the man he loved was not weakness, but a testament to how wrong they were for one another. If even Harry would not chance it…What a fool Severus had been to ever consider it. 

“You’ve practically been a couple, anyway. Don’t see what making it official would hurt,” James muttered. 

Severus snorted. “Sex does not a couple make, James.”

“It’s not the sex,” James laughed. “It’s all the rest.” James laughed harder at the incredulous look Severus offered. “It’s the…you know…the shared meals, the conversation, the laughter, the inside jokes, the intimate glances, the outings…You’ve been together more often than not, of late. And you just sort of fall together, you know? Whenever you’re in the same room, you just…drift to each other.” James shook his head. “I’m a little amazed I never noticed before, what you’re like together.” 

Severus considered this as he sat there. The spilled potion across the room bubbled and oozed across the stone floor. A sharp shake of his wand cleared the mess, though he left the shields temporarily erected, just in case. James hummed beside him, snorting with laughter every so often, at whatever thoughts floated through his mind.

What Severus thought of was his history with Harry. The good and the bad, culminating in these last weeks, all of the time spent with Harry. They were friendly, sure, and more than friendly when alone, but was it more than that, as James suggested? Did they act like a couple? Was that what life would be like with his Harry? Not a dark pit that promised agony, with tendrils of joy wrapping around their ankles, pulling them in? Was it instead the fear of potential hurt warding them away from paradise? Could that simple, ordinary joy last for them? 

When at last Severus and James emerged from the basement, a letter was waiting for them, dropped on the living room floor by an agitated owl. Together, father and son read its contents, both disturbed by what they found. 

“He’s got to try,” James said. “At least one of us can be happy, right? Or are we all doomed to being miserable and alone?” 

“Neither you nor Albus is doomed to any such thing,” Severus snapped, reading through the letter again. “You’re both young yet.”


	23. The Whole Art and Joy of Words

During Sunday breakfast, three owls zoomed in ahead of the rest, dropping return letters onto Albus’s empty plate. He had only just sat down, jumping in surprise as they flew off. The rest of the morning mail followed after, but eyes were on Albus after the display. Albus shrunk down in his seat, stuffing the letters into the inner pocket of his robes. 

“Don’t you want to read them?” Scorpius asked.

“Very much, yes,” Albus grumbled. “But not here.”

Albus scarfed down his food quickly. Sensing his impatience, Scorpius shoveled down his own breakfast. When he was finished, Albus jumped up, striding swiftly from the Great Hall. Mouth still full of sausage and bacon, Scorpius ran after him. 

All three of his parents had taken him seriously, writing back right away and fussing at the owls to rush their responses, for them to fly in with such haste, clearly agitated as they left. Honestly, Albus felt a bit silly for his overreaction, but also comforted that they had written back to him. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, really. 

Only back in the safety of the Slytherin common room did Albus rip open the letters, eagerly scanning their contents.

* * *

_ From: Severus Snape  
2 Paradise Place  
Falmouth _

_ To: Albus Potter  
The Great Hall  
Hogwarts _

_Albus,_

_Too often in my life I have crushed my own chances for happiness. So inexperienced was I with love, I destroyed every ounce of it I was generously given._

_You may know that I once loved your grandmother, Lily Evans. No one had given me the care and attention she had, and I basked in her light. Try as I might, I could never hold on, always seeking to smother and hide what should be shared freely. With biting words, I drove her away._

_With harsher words still I drove away your father. Had I not, matters may have played out differently. Perhaps he and your mother would never have reunited. Had I known how to accept and treasure the hearts given unto my care, I may have been a better parent to you._

_There is no changing the past. I cannot undo the damage I wrought with my inability to accept and treasure the love given to me freely. What I can do is urge you to not follow my path._

_You have known love, Albus. The love of friendship, as shared with Scorpius Malfoy. The love of family, as shared by your parents and siblings and myself. Now you are offered the love of a pure and good heart. It is not a gift to be trampled or handled carelessly. It is not a gift to spurn out of fear._

_There are no guarantees in this life, my son. I cannot promise all will be well. What I can promise is a life of misery and loneliness, should you turn away every chance at happiness. You are wiser and stronger than I ever was. If you love this girl, you owe it to not only her, but to yourself, to see it through. Come what may, you should experience love and life openly, fearlessly. Learn from my mistakes. My greatest regret in this life has been my own part in all of my suffering. I would regret more that my mistakes should lead you to the life I have lived._

_There is no changing the past, but the future contains endless possibility._

_Sincerely,_

_Your father_

* * *

_ From: Ginny Weasley  
16 Loblolly Lane  
Godric’s Hollow _

_ To: Albus Potter  
The Great Hall  
Hogwarts _

_Dear Albus,_

_You and Mabel always made a sweet couple. She is a good girl._

_Much as I would love to see you together again, you have to heal in your own time. This ordeal has been harder on you than the others. I know you carry guilt in your heart, though you should not. On top of the betrayal and hurt our lies caused, you feel guilt, and that, my love, is too much for you._

_It scares you, that our mess is all there is to love. I challenge you to look around you. Look to the Longbottoms. Look to your aunts and uncles. Look to your grandparents. Let them be your guiding light for love. It is not love itself that ruined us, Al, but the lie of love and the denial of love. If we three had been honest with ourselves and each other, none of this would have happened._

_You have suffered. I hate myself for the role I have played in that. It’s okay if you need time to recover, just be sure you do recover. Don’t hide from love forever. Love may have hurt me, Al, but love also gave me so much in life. Your father and I had wonderful years together, wonderful memories. And your father gave me you and your brother and your sister. I can’t regret what he did to me when it gave me you. You are one of my greatest blessings, and I would not wish you away for anything._

_Opening yourself up to love opens you up to hurt. I won’t lie to you. But I would wish you pain before I wished you a life without love. Love itself is not painful. Love itself is beautiful. You deserve love, Albus. Whatever you decide about Mabel, keep that in mind, and don’t live in fear of love. You should only fear a life without it._

_Love,_

_Mum_

_P.S. I’m sure you’ve seen the papers, but I am seeing Draco Malfoy now. I don’t know how serious it will be, but he is a gentleman and I find I really like him and enjoy his company. I’m scared, too, Al, but I think it’s time I moved on.  
_

* * *

_ From: Harry Potter  
12 Grimmauld Place  
London _

_ To: Albus Potter  
The Great Hall  
Hogwarts _

_Al,_

_I don’t want my mistakes to scare you, but teach you. I know I’ve buggered it all up, and I think I may have buggered things up more. You see, your father asked me to be with him, and I ran off scared. Not something I like to admit to. I always thought I was braver than that, stronger than that. Everyone tells me so. Everyone expected better of me and I let them all down._

_Worse than that, I’ve let myself down. And you._

_We shouldn’t be scared. As it has recently been pointed out to me, love is what saved me. Love is the reason I’m alive today. It is the greatest power in the world. That sounds rather cheesy, doesn’t it? But it’s true._

_I love you and your siblings, and there is nothing I hate more than knowing what my mistakes have cost you all. I love your mother, even if I never could love her the right way. I love Severus, too._

_Because I love him, I made a mess of things. But that was my fault, not love’s. I am solely to blame for all that’s transpired. I apologize for that. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to apologize enough. I hope you never know what it is to hurt the people you love on the level I have. I hope no one you love hurts you the way I’ve hurt everyone around me. But I also hope you don’t let my screw ups cost you a good thing._

_I can’t tell you what to do about Mabel. What I will tell you is to follow your heart. Maybe if I had listened to mine from the start things would have turned out differently._

_Love,_

_Dad_

* * *

Teddy and James were sitting together on the porch when Harry Apparated outside the gate. Harry blinked in surprise. The porch was, in fact, a new addition to the house. Severus’s nice, modest home was looking rather thrown together, almost Burrow-ish. He’d have to tell Severus that, later. He had more important things to tell him now. 

“This was your doing, then?” Harry asked, motioning to the porch.

“We got a professional, this time,” James grinned. 

“It was per his request, though, yes,” Teddy laughed. 

Harry shook his head, amused. It was good they were out here. Better to have no witnesses to this, for Severus’s sake. If things became emotional he would not want anyone else to know about it. As he raised his fist to knock, James waved at him. “Just go through, he’s in the back garden.” 

“Right, thanks.” 

The house was clean as Harry walked through, freshly so, if the scent was anything to go by. It was brighter, too. It seemed James had talked him into more windows, as well. It was a nice addition, one he hoped Severus kept when James inevitably found his own place. 

Through the kitchen and out the back door, Severus was cursing under his breath as he threw a gnome into his neighbor’s yard. Harry couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t imagine the Goyles would be pleased. 

Severus spun around at the sound of his voice, face smoothing into a blank canvas. Harry took a deep breath, crossing the yard to approach him. 

“Potter.” 

“Severus,” Harry said, working to keep his voice steady. “I’ve come to say I’ve thought about it.” 

A flash of surprise in those black eyes. “’It’?”

Harry shuffled. “Y’know. Your…errr…offer?” Severus only stared at him, walls up. Of course he would not make this easy. Harry had only himself to blame. “I thought…Well. I know we can’t…know…how things will turn out, but…Well, I think we…That is, we owe it to ourselves to at least try, don’t we?” 

Still, Severus said nothing. Harry rocked on his heels, crossing his arms. The gnome in the Goyles’ yard was stumbling around, mumbling. Millicent was peering out of her window, but it wasn’t the gnome she was staring at. Harry laughed nervously and kicked at the dirt. “Severus, you bastard, say something.” 

“What would you like me to say?” Severus asked haughtily. 

“That you still want to be with me. That I didn’t ruin whatever chance I had.” Harry pleaded. 

“And condemn myself to a life of these histrionics?” Severus drawled. Harry clenched his fists, scowling as Severus stepped closer, looming over him. The hand that cupped his chin, tilting it upward was gentle. “Haven’t you learned by now that I will have you however you let me?” 

Relief welled within so powerfully, he closed his eyes to contain himself. As he did, soft lips pressed against his own, a loving caress that soothed all of his fears. Without breaking their kiss, Severus pried Harry’s arms open. Once freed, both wrapped their arms around each other, holding close. Harry was sure he had never loved Severus as much as he did in that moment, when the man welcomed him back, daring to risk the new adventure ahead of them. He hadn’t known it was possible to love him anymore than he already had. 

Never had he known desire such as he held for Severus, nor such agonizingly gorgeous adoration. Never had he wanted anything as badly as he’d wanted Severus, and now that he had him he was overwhelmed by the piercing joy of it. 

“I love you,” he whispered against the man’s lips. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

“And I you, my brat,” Severus murmured, lips curling into a sweet smile against his own. Harry smiled in turn, capturing that smile in a kiss, and another and another. 

“Git,” he said after a time, settling himself comfortably in those familiar arms. “One more question, then.”

“Alright.”

“Will you have dinner with me? Out, that is?” 

Severus quirked a brow. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes.”

“In public?”

“That was rather the thought, yes.”

“So we can be gawked at?”

“They can gawk all they please.” With shame he remembered his fear at being discovered, the worry over what his peers would think of him, not only for his affair, but his choice in partner. His Severus was not kind, nor handsome. However fond Harry was of that angular face, the one he now reached up to cup in both hands, he would never be handsome. Harry didn’t need him to be. He was everything Harry wanted, the world’s opinions be damned. “You’re mine now, they may as well get used to the idea.”

“Yours? My, you are possessive,” Severus remarked. 

“All mine,” Harry agreed happily, pushing upwards to press a light kiss to that hooked nose. He could feel the eyes watching them now, more than just Millicent Goyle. His face heated at the attention, but he looked nowhere but the depths of that alluring black gaze. 

“And you’re mine?” A flare of possessive, smothering, ugly, exquisite heat crossed that face. The sight of it sent the beast within squirming ecstatically in his gut. It was all he could do not to shove him to the ground and have his way with him for the world to see.

“All yours. Only yours,” Harry promised quietly. 

The grip around him tightened, and when Severus kissed him again it was all he could do to hold on. All of that fire poured itself into Harry, passion igniting passion, flowing between them. Harry was high on it. Severus’s tongue snaked between his lips, licking the inside of his mouth obscenely. Harry’s knees turned to jelly, but Severus held him up, held him tightly. 

“Tonight, then?” Harry gasped.

“Yes. Can I fuck you now or do I have to wait until afters?”

Harry grinned slyly. “I wouldn’t want your neighbors to think I’m easy.” Severus growled as Harry unsteadily stepped back from him. 

“I didn’t think you cared much for their opinions.” Severus stalked after him as Harry continued walking backwards, back towards the house. 

“I’m after more than just a shag, you know.”

“I know. That’s why you’ll be moving your belongings and that blasted snake on the morrow,” Severus said as Harry’s back hit the door. His hand moved to the knob, turning it to spill them into the kitchen. 

“That serious, are you?”

“About you? Always. I don’t intend on letting you go.” 

“That suits me fine.”

In their stumbling haste, Harry’s hip hit the dining table, and that was all the prompting Severus needed to begin tearing at his clothes. Harry spared a hope that James and Teddy stayed outside a bit longer. And another hope that this would last, that this would survive the afterglow, survive the honeymoon, survive the inevitable fights and hurt feelings. The hoped that ties that had bound them for so long would survive the test of time, the testing of two stubborn men, the test of a life they chose to embark upon side by side.

More than that, Harry was starting to have faith that it could.

* * *

As Severus and Harry disappeared back into the house, the neighbors disappeared back into their own, and James Potter waddled back around to the front porch. Teddy watched him with amusement as he climbed back up and into his seat. 

How could he help but spy on them? The moment the door closed behind Harry, James had struggled to his feet, hurrying as fast as he could around to the backyard. The pair had no eyes for anything but one another. As they kissed and held each other, James felt a sense of peace and hope growing within. 

No one had ever looked at James with that tenderness, or held him so fiercely. No one had ever loved James so passionately. Not even Teddy. He was beginning to be grateful that Teddy wanted to be separate, for now. James found he wanted what his fathers shared. He wanted to be wanted that badly. He wanted to inspire that desire in another person. James deserved that. He was confident on that point. One day, he would have this, be it with Teddy or another wizard. James would settle for nothing less.

They would be just fine, his family. Love that strong could not fail them. 

“Let me guess, they’re off shagging in a bush?” Teddy asked.

“They made it into the house, thank Merlin,” James replied. “Best stay out here for a while.”

“That’s fine. It’s a lovely day.” 

It was a very lovely day, James thought. He could not imagine one lovelier. The sky was clear and blue, the sun bright overhead, the air cold but refreshing. He was bundled up warmly with his child squirming excitedly inside of him, his first love smiling beautifully at him. And his parents were inside, madly in love and celebrating the start of their new life together. 

This might not be exactly what he’d wanted for his life, but he was happy with where he was. 

“I did have a thought, James,” Teddy went on, digging around in the bag he’d brought along. “I live in Tutshill now, you know? And this couple down the street is moving out. It’s a two bedroom house, small but cute. It’s only a few doors down from me. It’s a nice little neighborhood, safe and friendly. It’d be a good place for little Ev to grow up. And they’d never have to miss either of us. If you don’t mind seeing plenty of me, that is.”

“I dunno. Falmouth is home to the Falcons, you know,” James teased. Teddy’s responding laugh sent his heart dancing. “No, really, that’s a wonderful idea. We’ll make plans to visit, then?”

“Yes, that would be nice,” Teddy agreed. 

If Teddy never fell madly in love with him, they would always be friends. Always be family. James would give his child that. And James loved him too much for it to ever die. They would be good partners and have a good life together, whatever form it took.

* * *

In the Great Hall, as dinner turned to dessert, Albus pushed away his plate and pulled the three letters out of his pocket. Scorpius enthusiastically ate a plate full of cookies, babbling about how polite Rose had been to him that day. Albus listened, nodding and responding appropriately as he folded the letters into his desired shapes. 

“I think I’ll ask her to Hogsmeade next weekend,” Scorpius said. “Maybe she’ll just laugh at me instead of glaring. That would be improvement, right?” 

“Definitely. Listen, I’ll see you later, okay?” 

Albus rose from the table and walked down the length of it, then around. A few people turned to stare as he walked between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. When he cleared his throat, Tulip Fraser giggled and scooted down the bench, leaving Albus room to sit down beside Mabel. She sat up straighter, eyes wide and bright, swimming with hope and relief and anxiety. 

Before Mabel was a plate with several slices of cake. There was strawberry frosting at the corner of her mouth. Albus licked his lips, then reached out to push her plate out of the way, laying his origami flowers before her in its place. Mabel broke into a grin when she saw them. Her legs began to bounce excitedly beneath the table as she turned to face him. Albus found he was grinning right back at her.

“Will you go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend, May?”

“Yes!”

“And you’ll be my girlfriend again? Now, not next weekend. Well, next weekend, too. For the foreseeable future, really.”

Albus cringed at his awkwardness, flushing when he heard the laughter around him. Mabel giggled, too, but it was a happy sound, not a teasing one. 

“I’d love that!”

“Well, I love you,” Albus whispered. 

Mabel immediately burst into tears. Albus laughed, wrapping his arms around her as she swayed into him, kissing the top of her head. 

“This is really embarrassing,” she sniffed.

“It is. Wanna take a walk?”

“Let’s.”

All eyes were on them as they rose from the table. Albus scooped up the paper flowers and spilled them into her hands. He thought of transfiguring them into real flowers, but decided against it. He hoped she would read the letters. Albus could share them with her. Mabel would understand, then, that he was still afraid, but was choosing her anyway. Albus wasn’t sure he could bear saying the words, not yet. He had come far enough in one night, without giving everything away. Instead he took her hand in his, both ducking their heads shyly as they walked out of the Great Hall, linked hands swinging between them.


End file.
